Licorice Obsession

I have a licorice obsession. There. I said it. I think it became a real problem in my adult life though I have loved licorice for as long as I can remember. I chalk it up to my Danish heritage because, I think, licorice as a candy probably originated in Europe. It is popular in Denmark, Sweden, and Germany and I know this to be true because I have been there. I have seen it with my own eyes. And so it goes.
At lunch my BFF Nani handed me this beautiful bag of licorice. I could spot it in her hands as she walked into the dining hall. From afar. Super far. There it was. In my mind I was hoping she was not walking towards me because I know I am an addict. And as addictions go I cannot stop with just one.  But she came straight to me. I fought it. I said, "No, no, I can't have it. I cannot control the obsession." To no avail. It stuck to my hands like glue to paper. No hope in dope. Oh no.
I returned to my desk. I set it down and pondered what to do. Go in for the kill or hide it and hope that my poor memory would serve me right and I would forget it existed. Yeah, right.

I have a method to my madness. So in my attempts to curb the addiction, I start by sorting it out. I don't care all that much for the button shaped ones (you can see them through the bag. They are white, red and black). But believe me, they will be eaten soon enough. I start with the colorful "happy pills" (named so by my kumu hula, Mililani Allen) and jelly beans and then will work my way to the less appealing. But seriously, they are all appealing. Every. Single. One. I crave all things licorice flavored including liquor. You know. Zambucka. Ouzo. And for cooking, nothing beats anise. Star anise. I put it in my chinese soup. Yum. That's what gives it the appeal. Fennel has the same flavor. That's why I try to stay away. I can't keep feeding the frenzy.

Just thought I'd share. Thanks, Nani.