Worcestershire Chocolate

I think it’s fair to say that I have an unhealthy relationship with food.

I am going to re-phrase that. I have absolutely no self-control whatsoever when it comes to sugar and chocolate.

Today I went walking with a friend of mine and I was telling her about how I threw all the chocolate in my house out last night and then had to pour Worcestershire sauce all over it so I wouldn’t be tempted to eat it FROM THE BIN. She didn’t even bat an eyelid and told me she’s done that too, but she put bleach on hers. I love my friends.

I’m really bad at moderation, so when I’m not indulging in tonnes of chocolate, I become obsessed with dieting and calorie counting and can go weeks and months without eating a speck of sugar, fat or carbs. I constantly swing between the two.

I told my friend that when I’m in my hardcore dieting phase, if I need to test the kids’ pasta to see if it’s cooked, I spit it out rather than swallow a single gram of carbohydrate. She got that too. We swapped tales of our bizarre eating habits and both agreed that most women have issues with food. Because that’s what good friends do, convince each other it’s normal to have to taint food so you can’t eat it out of the bin.

Nobody is more aware of my culinary derangements than Rob.

“Does my gut look fatter than yesterday, Rob?”.
“No”.
“You are so lying. It doesn’t help if you don’t tell me the truth”.
“It looks the same”.
“But it can’t, I have eaten so much crap this week that my jeans won’t do up properly. And my calorie counter spreadsheet is like triple over it’s limit”.

And you know what? If I were him and had heard stuff like that every week for the past thirteen years, like he has, I would say to me “You know what, Steph? Yes your gut does look fatter because I watched you eat a litre of ice cream on the back of an entire block of white chocolate every day this week. What do you expect? If you don’t want to get fat then stop eating so much shit”.

But he doesn’t. Because he’s nice. And because I would sulk for a month and then hold it against him until the day he died. Probably longer. And he probably wouldn’t get any action for about a year, which I’d imagine isn’t that appealing either.

So. Fess up everyone – do you have to bleach your chocolate?