I've never been to a chocolate factory. I've long dreamt of bathing in couverture, taking illicit bites of bonbons on the production line, and other interesting fantasy activities. Even in a chocoland like France it's almost impossible to come close to such an opportunity. The Chocolatrium at Michel Cluizel is a lukewarm towel to the cold shower of chocoholic frustrations.

All sorts of things grow when the weather is going crazy. In Paris this week, the temperature fluctuated between 14C and rainy and 35C and excruciatingly humid. I got home from a day of walking around the rive gauche (Left Bank = mix of university, studenty, somewhat wealthy, public service, cultural and dawdling tourist population). Look what had grown in my bag from the curious cultures floating through the air…

There was a strange box containing…

I had intended to review some of the chocolates from the British chocolatier Artisan du Chocolat, as I was in London recently and had previously enjoyed (and written about) them after a visit in 2007. Some businesses in high-end food succeed in respecting customers, others choose to be rigid and intentionally haughty. Artisan du Chocolat seems on the face of it to fall into a more positive category, but on this visit I was disappointed.

All over Denmark you see signs for frisky creamy balls. At first it seems very odd and rather tasteless, until you realise you're mistranslating. Welcome to the world of fluffy chocolate coated delights… with recipe!

I am disturbed, disturbed! An article in The Guardian late last year drew my attention to the existence of a list. A subversive, deeply disturbing list. A list with earth-shattering implications for my hitherto guilt-free diet of pastry and chocolate. As if we needed more proof that things haven't been right in the United States in recent years, I fear that the military-industrial-vegetable complex is attempting a green coup.

The Cocoa Farm brand might be known to some. A product received for review was small barrel-shaped chocolates with pieces of currant 'bathed' in shiraz. Meh.

I awoke to a hangover. A dull pain knocked at the back of my skull. Had I been an alcoholic hypocrite? Heavens, no! This was a very special hangover. Chocolate. Read about a new venture in Melbourne which will certainly keep the bar high for the chocolate scene.

How do you store your chocolate? At various times I've made sure my chocolate was happily resting in many places, but not in a ludicrously expensive wooden vault.

The last breath of 2007 has been exhaled. As well as wishing all a wonderful 2008, I think it's time to clean out all the pieces of deliciousness which I didn't get around to writing up properly. Think of this as being the end-of-year/start-of-year food porn clearance.

Something interesting is going on at The Age newspaper in Melbourne. In the space of eight days, the newspaper has published two pieces about slavery in the West African cocoa growing industry. In September it also published a piece about this issue by a prominent Christian activist and anti-slavery campaigner from Britain. Why now?