AKA Nutella. If you don't know what this divine stuff is, then I'm very sorry for your taste buds. Nutella, for those of you who don't know, is a European delicacy that is a mix hazelnut spread (think peanut butter but with hazelnuts) and chocolate. It is a little thinner consistency than peanut butter and not as much stick to the roof of your mouth-ness. But it is divine. Or evil. I'm not sure which.
You see, not all that long ago, the only people in the US that knew about Nutella were those fortunate enough to have traveled to Europe or to have a European friend who could be their dealer, um, import agent. Americans traveled to Europe and discovered this deliteful little jar of sin and promptly tossed all their clothes and packed their suitcases full of Nutella to bring home. If they were really lucky, they had friends who either came to visit in the U.S. on a regular basis or who could be inticed into shipping a jar of Nutella to the States every so often.
You knew when you had one of those precious jars that you'd better savor it. Make it last. Ration it. Hide in the back of the cabinet to keep the kids out of it. After all, who could tell when you'd get another jar.
Then, the makers of Nutella hit on the brilliant idea of importing it to the U.S. Ah, veritable gold mine of Nutella starved people would flock to the stores and buy it. No more waiting for your European buddies to hook you up. Now you can just head down to the neighborhood grocery store and buy all you want.
But you know, I think I may have prefered it when Nutella was rare and came with labels printed in German or French. You enjoyed it and savored it and when it was gone, it was gone. You sighed over the memory and went on with life. And you couldn't read the nutrition label.
Now Nutella is available here and it comes with an English label. Honestly, if you are going to eat the stuff, you might as well just glue the jar to your ass. No, actually that wouldn't even do. You need to go get a 5 lb sack of flour and glue that to your ass. You see, the fat and calorie content of that little jar of divinity is hugely disporportionate to the size of the jar. There is a fat and calorie black hole in that jar and it sucks in way more fat grams and calories than should rightly fit in a jar of that size and then regurgitates them on your ass.
When Nutella lived in Europe, this wasn't a big deal. It was a rare treat. The calories didn't count, especially since you couldn't read the label (even if you spoke fluent German you could tell yourself you couldn't read the label). And you got to eat it once every couple of years. Not even as bad as birthday cake since you get that once a year.
But now, it's invaded the U.S. It's in our stores. And sometimes it leaps off the shelf into the grocery cart when I'm on the peanut butter aisle. I hold firm and only give in to the tempation a few times a year, though.
But oh my, the things you can do with a jar of Nutella, especially when you know there is more for the easy taking back at the store. Nutella smeared on a cookie. Nutella on cinnimon toaste. Nutella on ice cream. Cookies made with Nutella with more Nutella schmeared in the middles. Nutella on a freaking spoon with you look furtively around to see if the kids noticed you opening the jar because you don't want to share.
Even the knowlegde that I can't get my blue jeans past my hips didn't keep me from indulging in a Nutella crowned cookie or 12. The kids and I had managed to eat half the jar in just 24 hrs. # days later, the jar is almost empty. And I am sadly contemplating buying more right away because the girls like it on toast for breakfast and they are actually eating and getting some freaking calories in them before school. Yeah. Uh-uhn. That's the reason why.
I may never fit in those jeans again.
