Carob Powder

Ah chocolate, oh dark mystery of delight; on my tongue, the pleasure, on my hips, the blight. From far away in hot, tropical climes; thou art gathered by slaves, but I can pretend “Not mine!” Thy narcotics lull my senses into blissful transport; away from my problems, an escapist passport! Bitter as gall thy native flavour repels, but when sweetened by sugar, thy taste rings all bells. If food were but flavour, if it stopped with the mouth, you would win all the prizes, from north to the south. Alas, it doth linger long past that first step. It enters the body and wrecks havoc-Dieppe. Artery-clogging, cholesterol-raising, insulin-blocking: what else can go wrong? Dental cavities, acne...

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