Every so often, when I was younger, my Mum used to allow me to select just a few "posh chocolates" from the Pick'n'Mix stands in Safeway or Woolworths. You know, the ones in wrappers or the ones with runny centers. It became known, between us, as "3 each"- inventively named as the limit would always be six between us both. I used to feel so priviledged, part of an exclusive club in which I would savour each bite and make each piece last as long as possible. This involved carving off the solid disc chocolate bottom with my nashers, sooking out the thick caramel from within and leaving a crisp naked cup to crunch!
I later became mildly obsessed over "chocolates with sections" (meaning chocolate boxes in which each piece had its own little bed) after watching Ms Trunchbull in the film Matilda wrap her gums around some fine looking morsels and smack the words "much too good for children". It became a tradition thereafter that each Christmas I received a partitioned box of treats from Maw and Paw which, along with my stocking, made my day!
You can then only imagine the euphoric high I experienced upon discovery of the "confectionery counter" for the first time- perfectly formed pyramids of choice! I loved everything from their little name plaques, to the varying shades of white, milk and dark. I've maybe only visited confectionery counters six times in all my life, but on Sunday I made that number seven!
Hubs and I were returning from a weekend down south when we stopped off at Lake Windermere and wandered around the village of Bowness. To my delight it held an array of indie retailers and charity shops- I love a good find - but the greatest treasure to uncover was "Huttons of the Lake District" who have been chocolate making since 1920. My eyes widened at the choice of over 30 different, individual chocolate types. That wasn't including wall to wall sweetie cladding around the shop! We refrained from gorging on all varieties by sticking to my previous ritual of "3 each".
As we stood in silence eyeing up 'the chosen ones' the lady infront of me turned and whispered, "I'm being naughty." It was at this point I realised my life long facination stemmed from an enjoyable guilt... tucking into delicacies not everyone could have, unlike mass produced Cadburys or Caramac. There is an air of exclusivity in these crispy, milky, bitter, rose flavoured, flakey, creamy, pretty little bites- often with restricted access once the branded ribbon or sticker seal have been applied. It's an experience, not just a product!
And so, as hubs and I left the shop, we sought a quiet corner to carefully peel the bag open and try our well considered selection. As my teeth sunk into Turkish Delight, Champagne Truffle and Marzipan I admired the design of Paul Smith style stripes and feather like chocolate curls. I realised this sense of 'being naughty' probably satisfied my rebellious tendencies enough when I was younger to refrain from house breaking and drug taking. Could this be a new solution to young offender rehabilitation? Curbing the cravings of criminals with a trip to the nearest Chocolatier? I'm sure Her Majesty would approve of such new age innovation in her prison service - I mean she's now on Twitter forgodsake. Well, if you are reading this Ma'am, you're welcome, it's been a pleasure. Nikki R.
