To a bar of chocolate with the writer Jonathan Coe, who talks about Great Britain with a dry wit like no other. Now he has written his most personal book to date.
There’s chocolate for dessert, Cadbury of course. Chocolate wrapped in purple foil doesn’t really fit here so well, the sometimes agonizingly long unpacking of such a full-grown bar always makes the calorie-conscious dinner guest seem a bit greedy. But Jonathan Coe obviously doesn’t care what he looks like when, at a small group dinner party in hip north-west London, he rustles a chocolate bar and quickly devours it. Then he takes another one.