Nutella or Sanity

The year rolled by with the ominous weight of time. Thundering just beyond our edges of hearing until it clicked, another notch, another year, another 366 days without Nutella under my belt.
Nutella.....
Which is why I probably still fit INto my belt.
I shuddered with relief when I saw the calendar and realized I had made it, had not cracked beneath the awful pressure of desperate cravings that no single jar of Nutella could assuage.
That there had been no dark and creamy void of unconsciousness starting when I had swept my arm through tidily arranged jars on Nutella on the super market shelf, innocently waiting to have their lids turned, their seals cracked and contents devoured in a sweet haze of ecstasy, spilling them in a clunking rain of beautiful music into my eagerly awaiting shopping cart. Had not filled my trunk to near bursting, had not driven with one hand on the steering wheel and one slathered in the physical incarnation of pure edible pleasure itself. There were no moments of confusion, no waking to the clatter of empty plastic jars tumbling from the bed to the floor. No plaintive cries from the cats because 2 days had gone by in a blink of an eye and surreal interaction between myself and it.
Nutella......
I whisper it's name, the very feel of it's syllables on my tongue has my taste buds aching, individually crying out in silent screams for fulfillment.
I close my mouth tightly, squeeze my eyes shut but the image that is forever burned on my retina haunts me. A single jar, the subtle curve, the provocative white lid..... I whimper, I struggle. I wrestle with the craving, grappling with it, a war inside my very own brain wages behind my hazel eyes that stare unseeingly. Looking inwards at the fight between common sense and craving, wondering who will win. Hoping it's a satisfying victory, wondering if while my brain is busy if my body could suss out one last hidden jar of it.
Nutella......
I shudder.
I had kept the dark temptress at bay. Had not hidden jars in the shower to indulge myself in a hot soak and palm full of chocolate hazelnut glory. Had not concocted elaborate plans to build myself a bunker from the empty jars, their contents emptied into the neighbor's swimming pool I had secretly drained at night so that I might truly become one with Nutella.
I did not scream in fury when relatives opened the closet that should not be opened and they did not turn and stare at me with bewildered eyes in the shadow of the mountain of Nutella jars. They did not recognize how close to glory they stood.
Nutella......
You are perfection, this I do not deny. In fact I would have your sweet name tattooed across my left shoulder, right ankle and one side of my buttock if there was not a grocery store next to the tattoo parlor.
I would marry you, entering willingly into polygamy with my Nutella covered husband at my side if it were legal.
I am not ashamed to say I'd do it anyways, shrugging the law from my shoulders, embracing the subtle hazel flavor and chocolate overtones, if I did not fear the very passions you incite in me. If I did not worry for my sanity, if I could afford the amount of you I'd need to keep me satisfied.
Nutella....
You are not a treat to be savored.
I am not the lady from the chocolate commercials.
I can not take a tiny taste and lean back, carried away in apparent spasms of delight. A tiny taste would be lost amongst my intense desire for you, it would be but a drip when my thirst requires an ocean to sate it.
Another year Nutella and I have been apart...for the greater good.
Nutella......
I love you, I hate you.....I love you....

Why Some People Can't Have Nutella.....

Celebrate all that is Nutella on February 5th!

Once upon a time a young woman lost her Nutella innocence in the parking lot of a Trader Joe's.

Logically this woman knew what she was in for, logically.
That Nutella was a chocolate hazelnut type spread, it said so right on the jar did it not? Said young woman liked chocolate and coincidentally hazelnuts so she decided what the heck, I'll give this Nutella a whirl.
What was the harm? (insert ominous, foreboding music here)
She threw a jar of the Nutella into her basket this one fine shopping day and moved on towards the more mundane things on her list, candied ginger, coffee beans and tortilla chips.
Now it might come as surprise to some people exactly all the things this woman was known to get into whilst in a parked car. Whilst in a parked car in front of a Trader Joe's on a sunny day.
She'd sample cheddar cheese right off the block, who needs a knife just bite off a hunk and enjoy. She'd scoop into ice cream with her emergency ice cream spoons always kept in the glove compartment of the car. She'd nibble on bits of bread ripped from the loaf, on handfuls of nuts and occasionally a gourmet soda.
She was a car snacker.
But it's ok, so was her husband.
So they basked in sinful car snacking glory together. Sitting under the hot California sun, with the air conditioning running and harried shoppers giving them the evil eye as they'd yet to give up their parking spot.
So this one day, happily sampling the goodies they'd bought. Sitting in piles of crumbs and grinning toothily at each other over their respective snacks of choice. (He salty, she sweet) The woman glances coyly under her eyelashes at her husband, cranks the air conditioning up another notch and breathily asks her sweettie..."Care to try something........different?"
He pauses, handful of tortilla chips clutched in his hands and slides his wicked blue eyes towards her. "What did you have in mind?"
This was the moment.
The moment before everything changed.
The silence stretched out, thin and sweet in the summer heat as she drew the jar of Nutella from her bag. Triumphantly showed it to her husband, cooed over the colour, the shape of the jar and pointed out that since it was both nuts AND chocolate that it covered both of their craving preferences.
"Let's do it." her husband purred, grabbing the emergency ice cream spoons from the glove compartment, silver glinting in the bright sun, smiling contentedly they popped open the lid.
Can you see it?
The way time slowed to a crawl?
The way they dug their spoons into the Nutella, unknowing of what they were about to unleash?
The drifting laughter from a child passing by the car with their mother. The music on the cd player fades to the background of the moment. The way the light caught the dull glossy spoonful of chocolate nut spread just so, ahhhh just so, as it traveled, for what seemed like an eternity to their mouths?
Nostrils flaring as the rich scent leaps ahead of the spoon, eager to greet their noses. The fading smiles, the open mouths, eyes widening first in shock and pleasure, then narrowing. Darting towards the still open jar that one of them holds.
Which one?
Does it really matter?
There is a small moment of recollection in the woman's memories, of the intensity of flavor and lush silky texture that greeted her unsuspecting tongue. Of the unbridled lust for something she'd barely begun to taste. Of hearts beating faster, breaths quickening and suddenly the air conditioning can not keep the car cool enough.
There's an intense flash point of taste, lust and greed rolled together in one amazing Nutella sized ball.
Two spoons descend in perfect harmony towards the jar, they clash, metal rings brightly, impossibly the spoons tangle together like lovers, unable to part. Each vying for the open jar, each desperately trying to dive into the new heavenly delight that has been discovered, right here on earth.
Everything grows dark as greed takes over.
She doesn't know what happened. There are days of darkness that will never be regained, sweet chocolate scented memories that flit away into nothingness. Some how they got home.
It's as if it never happened, though the inside of the car is suspiciously clean, all but for an empty jar. It too oddly clean, as sparkly spit shined up like a new penny.
As she stands there, dizzy for a moment, memories burrowing deeper into her subconscious, as if hiding from the light, she recalls the moment of revelation.
The one conscious, full memory of glory that was Nutella on her tongue for the first time. Then nothing more till this moment.
She doesn't wonder what happened.
It's best to leave some things be.
She buries the jar in the recycling bin, and even with out memory she knows...some things are so powerful, some things are so intense that they are not for human minds, hands or tongues.
Life goes on for she and he.....
Though occasionally, when walking through Trader Joe's their footsteps falter as they pass the Nutella.
Hands unconsciously reach, in perfect synchronistic movements towards the jars at the same time, they hover, shaking over the closest one. Hers bumping his, his bumping hers. Fingers finally curling into fists, retracting....the moment passes and they get peanut butter instead. Faithful, trusty old peanutbutter.
They can be trusted with peanut butter.

(on a completely un-related to the dark, sinful Nutella ways, note.....if you think you can handle something so freaking good it will blow your mind then I invite you to partake of the rich decadent flavours of Nutella. If you're like me...er...um.....that is....I mean.....if you're like SOME people who choose to remain anonymous and can not be trusted around delicious goodies and have a will power that is so non-existent it actually registers as a negative number then...beware...beware.)