I have a love/hate relationship with sugar, stretching back to childhood. Too much makes skin itch, too little causes irritation. Diabetes is prevalent on both sides of the genetic code, amputation the reason my great Grandmother is the first death that can be remembered. Not all great things in life are forbidden, but sugar ought to be. The destruction it wreaks is too often ignored for great Instagram opportunities and quick energy fixes. I used to be in its thrall, but now the stuff’s considered as a drug like alcohol. Every so often is fine.
Don’t live there.
Going off to Italy in August, I expect cannoli to make an appearance somewhere in the week. It’s a holiday, after all. Graze provides me with the means by which to avoid the daily temptation of processed, sugary crap but even then the occasional Lion bar gets through. Nobody is a saint, after all. There has to be something. That’s the problem with my own mind, a need to keep some things that isn’t comfort-motivated as a treat. Reasonable, sensible consumption, balance in all things. When hungry, and without the ability to resist temptation, provide a healthy alternative wherever possible.
Mostly, don’t give into the forbidden.