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Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Bad case of loving sugar

Mike Morin

First I checked the pantry. No chocolate. Next the freezer. Nothing. Back to the pantry.

Still no chocolate. My sweet tooth is jonesing for a rich Lindt 70 percent dark chocolate bar.

As reality sets in that there is no chocolate in the house, I begin to panic. I’ve never been addicted to illegal substances and I’ve never been denied food, but somehow, my body is shifting into survival mode.

Must have sugar. Want chocolate but will settle for a lesser morsel. I close my eyes and push away from the keyboard, telepathically willing a Klondike Bar to my desk. What would I do for a Klondike bar? Make me an offer.

A growing sugar deficit is draining my energy and I begin hallucinating about brownies.

Maybe I’ll wake up in the hospital with a Hershey syrup drip intravenously attached to my arm. Maybe I’m afflicted with some Willy Wonka chocolate disorder.

“Doctor, his blood type is M & M positive. We need another 500cc, stat!” Word spreads quickly and several chocolate donors raid their kids’ Halloween bags to help a columnist in need. Snickers bars, Three Musketeers and a couple of Lindt truffles appear bedside. I will soon be on the road to recovery.

Before you send me nasty grams about my chocoholic condition, please consider that dark chocolate, 70 percent and higher, is actually good for you. Or so I’ve been told. Dark chocolate is loaded with beneficial flavonoids, no relation to the Domino’s Pizza Noid.

Antioxidants will fly through your body and you will add 75 years to your lifespan.

It’s the chocolate fountain of youth that Ponce de Leon never found. So dig in, kids.

Chocolate is good for you. Disclaimer: Consume all foods in moderation. Consult your doctor before sitting down to eat a 3-pound chocolate Easter bunny. If your chocolate binge lasts for four hours, pour yourself a glass of port and enjoy the buzz.

Physical therapy will be a long road. I will be weaned from dark chocolate to milk chocolate and eventually to white chocolate, which isn’t really chocolate anyway. I’ll be put on a regimen of low-fat chocolate tofu. I will search the aisles of CVS for chocolate cessation kits. I will be forced to wear a Ghiradelli chocolate patch on my upper arm that will slowly feed me the chocolate noids I need while preventing the fattening parts from collecting around my mid-section.

But that doesn’t help me now. I resign myself to the notion that I will not find what I want and I will not drive to the store just for a chocolate fix. I comb the house again, remembering there is a second refrigerator downstairs that may contain frozen cake from Barb’s daughter’s wedding four years ago. Nothing. As a last resort, I tear open a trail mix chewy granola bar. I close my eyes and pretend the cranberries are chocolate chips.

I like my doctor’s recommendation. “Take two M & M’s and call me in the morning.”

Hear Mike Morin weekdays from 5-10 a.m. on “New Hampshire in the Morning” on 95.7 WZID. Contact him at His column runs the first, third and fifth Tuesdays of the month.