The absence of garden tasks is taking its toil on the soul of Jack, dearest reader, so his mind has taken to rambling, oft-times reiterating what has already been mulled over already. So here I am, foisting the dregs of the brew of my mind’s fermentations onto you. This is all apropos of nothing, pure selfish catharsis. I’m not supposed to admit that? Oh, then disregard that dearest reader, instead let us pretend this is educational. Education is important. Look at me, I wouldn’t be where I am without an education. Hard to tell if that an admonishment, a caution or an indictment on education, eh? Jesting of course, why who wouldn’t want me to me. That’s why you’re really here after all. Every one want to be like Jack. Even I can’t tell if I’m serious any more, befuddled reader.
So, chocolate. The salt and pepper of the confectionery world. That ever present covering, coating, slathered in plentiful supply on everything. To quote the philosopher, Popeye: Phooey to it from me! I’ve been dealing with my histamine intolerance for, let’s say, about three years now. It was the last piece of the puzzle of my ailing body. I spent a long time assuming that the red, raised rash and the constant itch was just the way I’d be from here on out. I was still on the tail-end of the high of being gluten and nightshade free, that time when anything other than not sick is a benediction from heaven. Now, having drunk the milk of happiness down to the bitter dregs I too am bitter. I’ve been without chocolate for the better part of two years now and I’m still tired of how it dominates everything. Again, I’m not looking, nor offering, solutions. I gave up a lot when I gave up chocolate, a lot of pain and discomfort too, but also so many little joys. There doesn’t seem to be a recipe that’s free from, I can’t call it the brown anything!, er, the histamine-rich thorn in my side. I suppose what’s worse is as well as having a sweet tooth I also enjoy chocolate. Enjoyed now.
Now I know you know me to a point. I don’t really moan that much. Right? Man, I hope so. But what’s really depressing about a no-chocolate section to my dietary life is that there isn’t much thought given to it. It’s either: Oh, no, I couldn’t do without chocolate (Feel free to substitute bread etc) or the: At least you have x. Dear, straw-man, I’ve given up everything I ever classed as my favourite foods, my sometimes enjoyed foods and more. So, if you, hypothetical antagonist that you are, want to lecture me I’ll light you ablaze. I suppose I make the same plea I often make: Try something new. If you can eat chocolate then maybe, just maybe, try making something without it on occasion. A recipe here and there without something you’re used to could be a boon to someone like me. I branch out here and there. I try making recipes for diets I don’t need to follow. Maybe we could just do without chocolate for a brief time? Oh, but I can see you, dear reader, grubby with chocolate, your tubby face looking at me in astonishment and terror. Go eat your chocolate. But spare a thought for those without. And, yes, I’m envisioning you as a fat toddler eating a candy bar. Take that!
Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m off to twiddle my thumbs and await spring. I hope this has been taken in the spirit of fun as it was intended, no hard feelings. Still, for those who can’t eat chocolate, I feel for you my brothern and sistern. The next month will be a chocolate coated hellscape. At least we’ll have, er, well, we’ll have our bitterness. And isn’t that the true meaning of Christmas? No? Oh, well, go eat your chocolate and bite me. (Thus I lost most of my readership). Okay, see you all later. New recipe might be incoming in a few days.
Lemon Version
Chocolate Version
