On this fine grey morning, I woke up with a pang of excitement that hit differently than any other day. With this feeling of delight, I trod out the front door, ready to romanticise every aspect of the day. Taking in my surroundings I felt gratitude for it all. The skies were dry, the roads quiet and the bus I got on was empty-ish. There’s no missing what day it is, according to my calendar encircled in pink it’s cheat day. My six-day sugar-free chocolate-loving self needs that 80 to 20 percent balance and this day marks the lesser percentage. It’s that day for one selected meal where I can go all out and not be so green. Be it dessert only or a large dessert dish before a small meal, sorry not sorry.
Over the past two weeks, I made a conscious effort to make changes to my spoilt diet, cutting out refined white sugar in every way possible. I stopped snacking on comfort food and began indulging in fruits and vegetables. I’d check the ingredients of pretty much everything including salad dressings. Almost ninety percent of the kitchen cupboard stock contains sugar.
Today on cheat day I visited my local dessert parlour; Urban Cholatiere. They serve the tastiest cookie dough, my favourite one is topped off with melted white chocolate and an extra drizzle of milk chocolate. I’ve never had cookie dough before so I guess I’m being a little biased here, but then I have nothing else to compare with. Despite my ever-growing love for cookie dough (how many times have I already mentioned cookie dough) I opted for a regular hot chocolate, to have drinking in.
After placing my order I slid into a booth and patiently waited. My hot chocolate arrived promptly in a neat presentation. In my eyes, it was a beautiful mess. A mountain of cream, coated with a handful of marshmallows and a dribble of chocolate sauce. The drink was generously filled to the top and slightly drifted down the glass. As quickly and cleanly as I could I finished all the cream on top. The marshmallows were sweet and delicious, a rich nostalgic combination. Of the days when I’d have girl’s nights at university. Just like then today I did not feel any guilt.
One thought on “What’s for lunch?”
sounded like an exquisite experience to be savoured – and certainly not feel guilty about.
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