As a child, I never ventured much beyond a Yorkie bar or a Kit Kat. I thought a Turkish Delight was the height of sophistication. My mother would come home with a slab of Dairy Milk or Fruit and Nut and we’d all go into paroxysms of joy. I think of these days in horror.
Now I feast on such piquant luxuries as fresh English mint ganache by Allsop available at my local market in Marlow, and bars of 70 per cent chocolate by Amadei. I scour food magazines such as Olive for the latest flavours (rose, for example, or Japanese black vinegar). I plan trips to London along my chocolate route, taking in Rococo in Marylebone, L’Artisan du Chocolat in Chelsea, and La Maison du Chocolat in Piccadilly.