I love this stuff. Honestly. I was asked to throw in a beetle and splatter some hot black nonsense around it. This is truly my jam. This is the chutney that I hoard so I can gloat over the amount of sweet marmalade I have left once the rest of you have spent yours. This is the grass-fed butter on my honey sunflower toast because I am a king. Regularly I will wake up from dreams of dripping this black lava on the flesh of my willing and eager clientele. I would like to do more of this please.
