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You can no longer say, ‘no’ truthfully.

Which for me is good. Because I’m quite tired of the good-goodies and their sanctimonious rejection of this delight.

Channel 4 news on Friday reported the amount of sugar we consume – some natural (in fruit juice), some added (cereals, bread, confectionery).

I’m the only person I know who takes sugar and honey in their coffee and two sugars in their tea. It’s better that way.

On those rare occasions when I have people round and offer tea or coffee, the ‘no’ guests give me is laden with martyrdom and sacrifice. As though they’ve given up sleep or blinking.

I know, I know, sugar, obesity, medical problems… I know.

But it’s the saintly, almost religious holiness that accompanies the refusal of sugar. Like those people who go about telling you their religion, as though they’re spiritually richer just by having a faith. Tripe.

People might have stopped having sugar in hot drinks but I bet they pour Red Bull or Fanta down themselves when they fancy. And would feel like sinner if all the ‘invisible’ sugar they consumed each day were added up and put in a bucket in front of them. By their bed. At the end of the day. They could kneel by their beds at night and ask for forgiveness…

They haven’t really given sugar up, just given up the public face of its intake. A charade.

But then again I get a lot of malevolent pleasure from heaping granules luxuriously into my drinks in front of them while they stare voyeuristically, enviously at my primitive and unashamed habit.

“Yes, I’ve cut down. I used to take four teaspoons you know. Aren’t I good?”

My virtue is that I home cook virtually everything we eat. I monitor fat and sugar. I take great pains to balance meals. It’s a rare occasion that I’ll serve up something someone else has made and I’ve just warmed it up. But I’m not hypocritical enough to claim that I never do it. No, I err too.

So can all the sugar-refusers adopt a different expression and tone of voice when I ask if they want any? Get rid of that pained but godly look that implies a dietary superiority. It doesn’t work on me.

Don’t take a high-handed approach to my gluttonous sickly sweet coffee and I won’t reprimand you for not home cooking your own food. I take sugar. I eat fat. You may have to watch your figure; I don’t!

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