Be as sophisticated as you like, but never knock Quality Street
I am in Oxford for work, staying in university rooms so beautiful that I instantly feel calmed and looked after. Timetabling and a sick child hoover up my plan to mooch around Oxford discovering chocolate shops in any spare time. That morning I had the foresight to prebook a (very good) cheese and chutney sandwich from the Hamblin kiosk in the market and two types of bun – cinnamon and vanilla – for tomorrow’s breakfast (the latter better).
The people I meet through this column tend to divide into three types: those who only like 70% (more next week for you) and above; those who like family favourites, and those who like to try anything new. I think of the middle bunch as I come back after an exciting but exhausting day comprising 24,000 steps, models of brains and dozens of texts. The woman running the accommodation can tell I’ve had a challenging (but brilliant) day and puts a box of Quality Street on my bedside table with a note so kind it makes me emotional.
