Hmmmm...I have a yummy new friend, and the kinky bastard is killing me! Not only do I have to battle his razor-sharp legal mind and barristerial wit but, under extreme torture, am being inducted into the dark, dreamy, creamy underworld of the Aztec cocoa miracle and purveyors thereof.
His winter evening ritual is to invite me over for a nightcap consisting of hot Belgian couverture chocolate sipped from little round ceramic pots, slunken into deep leather armchairs, waves lapping 10 metres away as we toast our toes by the real wood fire and talk about his world of villains and vice, with a dash of spice.
Now, sampling the finest chocolates from around the world does not ordinarily pose a problem to women, but distinguishing different flavours and textures while blindfolded, and having mistakes punished in rather lascivious ways is a kind of punishment a girl could become a slave to!
Needless to say...the kids think they've died and gone to heaven because mum is dating the Easter Bunny! Hmmm...think I should balance all of this by giving the City-to-Surf fella a sporting chance with me- chocolate by moonlight and push-ups at sunrise?
Wonder what the Heart Foundation would recommend for lunch? A carrot farmer?
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