I love my teeth

Just an obsession, brought to the fore by going out to dinner at Sycamore House, a nice little restaurant in Little Shelford (and this year's Good Food Guide), taking advantage of their February discount promotion. Now I'm not really one for sweet things at the best of times - primarily because a mouthful of sweet stuff tends to get my fillings going something rotten. Exacerbated by late 2002 involving such toothgrinding imbecility on the part of certain colleagues that I have worn patches on my teeth that are very temperature sensitive, ruling out ice-cream or sorbet.

Being late winter, I'd been hoping for something solid and carb-laden for dessert - a real pudding. But no - everything either ice-cream, sorbet, tooth-achingly sticky, chocolate (this does nothing for me, even in bars of organic 70% cocoa solids with cayenne, so counts as the previous), or sweet-fat dairy glop aka creème brulée (why?).

This downside of 1970's "if in doubt, drill it out" piecework NHS dentistry is having a truly bizarre upside in that it makes it easier to keep the weight under control. Except when I go for savoury pig-outs