Daily Express - - For Brexit -


THEY say you are a cheese per­son or a cho­co­late one and I am very much the for­mer, ex­cept when tempted by that wickedly de­li­cious com­bi­na­tion, cho­co­late and caramel.

Chuck in a nut and I’m yours. Which makes it blind­ingly ob­vi­ous that my favourite Qual­ity

Street sweet is the pur­ple-wrapped one.

Dur­ing the course of this re­search I dis­cov­ered you can buy tins that are filled solely with this va­ri­ety. Too much temp­ta­tion, I’d scoff the lot.

Bet­ter to take your plea­sures singly and con­fine your­self to one, the only co­nun­drum be­ing whether to bite it in half or scoff it all

at once. I usu­ally do the lat­ter. Then make for the cheese­board. But that’s for an­other time…


OF ALL the vices to which I hap­pily suc­cumb, de­vour­ing choco­lates is the least of them – my dulled sweet tooth the re­sult of a fool­ish de­ci­sion in teenage years to be­gin favour­ing the prod­ucts of Ben­son & Hedges. How­ever there’s al­ways at least one vast tub of choco­lates passed round our house over Christ­mas and my in­ter­est wanes once the Pur­ple Ones and Green Tri­an­gles run out. The Tof­fee Pen­nies no longer hold quite the ap­peal they once did as these days I fear for my crowns, whose cost should en­sure my den­tist has a par­tic­u­larly merry Christ­mas.

My favourites, how­ever, are Mars Cel­e­bra­tions, for the much un­der-rated plain cho­co­late Bounty is not widely enough stocked in shops. Mars, please take note.


IT WAS al­ways the tof­fee “coin” wrapped in gold foil that I went for. I am one of the rare few women who doesn’t like cho­co­late or have a sweet tooth. But as a child I liked the but­tery salti­ness of the tof­fee penny. Af­ter soft­en­ing it up in the mouth for a few min­utes it be­came like a putty which I could then “glue” to the roof of my mouth. This way then I could keep it in place for half-an-hour or so and en­joy the se­cret thrill of a long-last­ing sweet whilst ap­pear­ing to have noth­ing in my mouth. The orange and straw­berry creams were icky and sticky but like a dirty se­cret, I did like them, es­pe­cially as no­body else did – so al­ways plenty left over when the other fam­ily favourites were eaten first.

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