Interview with local businessman Richard Ruthven owner of Charlene's Chocolate Factory.

Local chocolatier Richard Ruthven took his passion and sweet tooth to create Charlene's Chocolate Factory, which he launched in April 2015 after the birth of his daughter Charlene. He creates unusual but delicious combinations of flavours, which look almost too good to eat. Richard also creates bespoke bars for even the most unconventional of ideas, so get thinking and get in touch with him.

Here Richard takes us from the beginning of Charlene's Chocolate Factory, to where he is now just a few months later...


How did the idea for Charlene's Chocolate Factory come about?

I have been a chef for over 12 years and have always had a passion for desserts and sweet dishes. Chocolate has always been an interest of mine. So when my daughter was born I was inspired to start my own business. Currently 10% of the profits go to her and I aim to increase that as we grow as a company.


How easy was it to make your idea a reality?

Easy in one sense, hard in another. It is easy to set up, but it's really hard to get the branding right and to get your name out there. Marketing is a full time job sometimes.


Did you have any set-backs while setting up Charlene's Chocolate Factory?

It was hard getting the name and branding right, I went through 3 or 4 different names and brand ideas before settling on Charlene's Chocolate Factory.

What is the best part about owning Charlene's Chocolate Factory?
Being my own boss and being able to be as creative as I want. I often don't like just doing the norm and I like to always push boundaries and try new things with my cooking. And you don't always get the chance to do that. Although I do need reining in from time to time



What is your favourite flavour of chocolate that you make?

Probably either "semi sweet basil" or "wake me up before you cocoa" and my favourite truffle is "salted caramel with milk chocolate & chilli".


What is the most unusual flavour chocolate you have made?

Probably "love it or hate it" marmite chocolate is always guaranteed to get a reaction, however I have a few unusual flavours like beetroot, basil & rosemary.


Have you had any flavouring blunders that were just too wrong to be right?

Not really, I did try bacon and maple the taste was ok but the texture needs work. Apart from that my first version of basil was a disaster then I eventually got it right


Is there a chocolate which has been discontinued in shops which you would love to bring back?

I always loved Wonka exploder bars, so I would love to do a dark or triple chocolate version.


Do you have any help with the chocolate tasting and testing?

Most of the time I rely on my own palette but I always try out my new recipes on family, friends and I might try them out as samples at events.


What are your future plans for Charlene's Chocolate Factory?

I would love to open a shop specialising in hand made truffles as well as our bars. I have so many ideas that I want to do which would only translate well if I had a shop premises.


Do you have any events coming up which readers can catch you at?

I am currently booked into The Tudor Close Farmers and Craft Market which takes place every second Saturday in Ferring, with the next one taking place on October 10th from 10am. I am also at the Emporium in Worthing town centre every third Saturday, and any local food festivals when I can. I always post where I will be on my Facebook page and I would encourage everyone to like my page for updates on new events and products.

Curiosity killed the cat.

But I bet someone made a good story out of it. 

The above was my motto for finding my stories today.

This afternoon I walked over the A27, climbed through a potentially lethal fence, met some cows and I am here (in a pub), to tell the tale.  

I was on the prowl, exploring my new territory. I had my lead but I had to go on an epic hunt, and an unexpected hike. 

Patcham in Sussex was a place which I hadn't been to before, but now I can safely say that I know my way around quite well. 

When me and my fellow trainees started at journalist works, we were given patches around Brighton to report on and Patcham is one of mine.

I knew a story here that I wanted to work on, so the first thing I did was find a cafe and get some food. Everyone works better with food inside them.

Stomach satisfied, it was time to work.

I wasn't anticipating going on needing walking poles to get around. 

I found myself slipping and sliding down a hill, while dodging dogs and protecting my throat (they can smell my fear!) 

I powered through as I was on a mission and I wanted to get to my story, even if it meant going through the wilderness and encountering my four legged enemies.  

I was glad to discover that if my trek took me into the night, there was food. 

Yes I had just eaten lunch but it's always comforting to know that there is food around.

My best hurdle on my hunt was this bent wire fence.

I don't know if you can see, but it's all bent out of shape. A fence is supposed to keep people out, this one clearly isn't  up to the job. 

Normal people may have turned back and given up, but my daughter aways says: "Explorers don't give up!"

So I did a quick check to make sure it wasn't electric, took the fact that I didn't receive a shock as a good thing and plodded ahead.

Now, I've never been one for heights. I had a panic attack when I was 11 on the climbing apparatus at school and refused to come down as I was too petrified to move.

I was about five foot in the air, so can you imagine what was going through my head when I saw this...

It may not look high in a picture, but I'll tell you, it was more than five foot.  

I closed my eyes walked across the bridge, only to realise I was where I didn't want to be and had to go back over it again.

It was a relief when I found a bench.

There was a note on it to a grandad that passed away two years ago, I found some tiny flowers and placed them on the bench along with my bottom. (The flowers in the picture were with the card when I got there. You can't see the ones I put there.) 

After walking for what felt like days (it had been three hours), I found a pub. 

It wasn't what I was aiming for, (that's a lie, I'm always aiming to get to a pub), but the locals have directed me to what I'm hoping is treasure. 

Curiosity has lead me to a good place. 

The above is Appletiser in a wine glass as I'm driving. It did amuse a few people when I ordered it, but everything tastes better from a wine glass. 

Drill, drill, drill.

Drilling is a battle between my hand, my eyes, my mouth and my head. 

If anything, it feels like I have drilled a hole into the side of my head and that's where all of the shorthand I have been practicing is seeping out of my brain. 

After another drill session last night (is it called drill because you literally have to be as strict as a drill sergeant to not watch Coronation Street and instead do some studying? Oh, how I miss those cobbles), and throwing my pencil across the room in frustration, I formulated a plan. 

I would make my five-year-old daughter Scarlett help me! 

Anyone who has ever flicked through the pages of a shorthand book will know that it looks like another language, so how could a five-year-old possibly understand it? Bear with, it's a good idea, well in my opinion it is. 

I mastered a plan and made cue cards so that Scarlett could hold the cards up, while I read the shorthand word out loud. 

On the back I wrote the word in plain English so that she could read it, as she is a bit slow (lazy), when it comes to reading. 

Ta-dah! Two birds, one stone. We both get our homework done with minimal fuss! 

That was the theory, then came the practice. 

My main hope in making the cue cards was to get used to reading shorthand naturally, and not just as a jumbled up scribble, and I do think that it has helped me. 

By telling Scarlett and my brain that we were playing a game, it didn't seem like hard work. 

Well, until she asked me to explain what I was reading, but I didn't think she was quite ready for the shorthand experience. 

I told her that I would teach her when she was older, maybe. 

Mummy duties completed and part shorthand, I now feel more confident about the words and understand why they are the way that they are in shorthand. 

Now it's back to drilling to really get the words locked in my brain, hopefully the cue cards have plugged the hole and I can smash this shorthand tonight. 

Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work I go. 

One of us - Talk by Al Horner at Journalist Works.

Eminem's song Writers Block includes the lyrics 'I think I'm runnin' out of clichés, I'm gettin' writer's block'.

Well, he made a clanger of a cliché and his biggest mistake writing that he had 'writers block' (which he obviously didn't as he made a song out of it), as writers block is a myth according to Al Horner, deputy editor of NME.com who was our guest speaker today.

Al was speaking as one of us. We listened intently to his every word as a successful editor, who a mere four years ago was in our position as a student at Journalist Works.

He advised us on top tips and gave us examples of how we could improve our writing.

The most important point that I took away from the discussion was to be confident, we ARE journalists. Oh, and of course- writers block is a myth.

Below are the most useful points from the talk that I believe will help me in becoming the best journalist that I can be:

* Find conflict. Challenge the person that you are interviewing.

* Ask the difficult questions first and get stuck in, then ask your other questions.

* Look at your interviewees background, is there something relevant that is happening right now that you can ask them that they can relate to?

* There is politics in everything. Use your subject to paint a broader picture of what is going on in the UK. Try and tap into something bigger.

* Make your intro as compelling as you can, it has to be something that you start reading and can't put down, create intrigue.

* Have faith in your ability as a writer, there is no time for insecurities, you need to hit the ground running.

* Journalism is a confidence game.

* When you think you have finished your piece, read it back and imagine you are reading it to a mate down the pub. -Note that this may not apply to all writing but it is useful to think about in feature writing.

* The best writing is loose, conversational, fun and interesting. (Again, bear in mind who you are writing for, it may not be appropriate in all instances.)

* Go against the grain, write a piece from an angle that the readers may not have thought of before.

* Be brave enough to be unpopular and don't waste time worrying about nasty comments, you literally don't have time for that.

* Care about what your editor, peers and self think about writing the right piece.

* Read everything and anything. Read things from outside of your discipline to find a new angle on a story.

* Don't pitch topics, pitch your story. What is the story? Why are you writing the story? Who are you going to talk to? What steps are you going to take to get the best story?

* Write, write, write. Find websites that you think you could write a piece for and pitch to them stating you will do it for free. (They say nothing comes for free in this life, but you may just get your name out there and who knows where that could lead?)

and lastly

* Writers block is a myth. Just get on with it, look at the above points and get cracking.

Al left me feeling enthused and excited about writing my next feature. My first assignment that I have set myself is to get an interview with Eminem, as I need to inform him that writers block is not a real thing and it is incredibly important that I get this message across to him and all other writers. 

I am a journalist, I can do this! 




(The above picture is of Eminem, not Al Horner, as I was so eager writing down everything he said (with some shorthand too, I was utilising all of my skills), that I didn't actually get a picture of him. I have slapped myself on the wrist for being a bad journalist, it won't happen again!

That is a promise to any of my tutors that may be reading this!

Soggy bottoms. #diaryofafiveyearold

Soggy bottoms are the last thing that we need to worry about in our house, it's the burnt bottoms that need attention. 

I'm Mary Berry in child form, I'm forever asking Mummy to bake with me and I feel a certain amount of respect for her when she forces a smile as she throws a packet cake mix into our weekly shop. 

Wait, did I say respect? I mean disrespect. A cake mix in a box is offensive to me, Mary and all other fellow bakers. 

Seeing as a box is my only option at Mummy's (thank heavens that my Dad is a chef), I chose this one today...

(That's me on the bottom right.) 

Anyway, the box cake mix routine goes like this:

• Throw the packet labelled 'cake mix' into a bowl (no measuring needed, which is useful as we don't own kitchen scales).

• Stir in an egg (whoop!) 

• Scoop the vile looking concoction into their paper homes. 

• Realise that the oven is not switched on and wait while it heats up. 

• When oven is suitably hot, put the cakes in and hope for the best. 

  

Altogether now: Mmmmmmm! 

I was surprised when ten minutes later they came out beautifully risen and though that Mummy had run to the shop when I wasn't looking. 

 

Apart from a little crusting around the edges, they didn't look too bad. 

I asked to put the icing on straight away and Mummy burnt her hand trying to demonstrate that they were too hot at that moment. 

I will admit that I laughed, but I then offered to kiss it better as her face went all red and blotchy and I thought she was going to cry. 

The 'surprise' in the inside out cakes are chocolate beans. Mummy hacked off the top of the cakes and stuck her finger in the middle to make a hole and instructed me to 'shove the beans in'. 

The 'finger in cake to make a hole' instruction was not on the box, but I went along with it as Mummy said that's what you do when I asked 'why?' for the tenth time. Her face had turned from red to blue, so I didn't challenge her anymore.

The end result looked like this...

 

Not a complete triumph, but there were no soggy bottoms or burnt bottoms in sight. 

That's a winner if you ask me.  

First week gone.

I say gone as what we learnt last week, we won't be going over again. Homework is essential during this fast track Journalism course at Journalist Works in Brighton but weirdly after a day of learning, I look forward to going home and reading over my notes and studying for another few hours (Rebecca Frew, did you actually just say that?!)

Even after 6 hours of shorthand on Friday, I still went home and got excited to go over and drill what I had learnt, but when you are doing something that you enjoy it's not really hard at all. (Right, where is Becky and what have you done with her?) 

Though I'm sure not everyone will share my enthusiasm for studying. Blossom Hill will be the most hard hit, I'm sure their profits will dramatically decline as my nights out with the girls will be replaced with nights in and begging friends to say random words so I can practice my shorthand. 

Also ITVbe will see their viewer numbers have one less than before on a daily basis. My real housewives of Miami/Orange County/Cheshire marathons are out of the window as I've replaced pointless TV with reading as many papers as I can in a day. 

As a budding journalist, it will be shocking to read that politics has never really been of any interest to me. Like a lot of people I find it incredibly hard to understand and didn't think that I could actually make a difference -but how wrong I was. 

After a visit from Myfanwy Nixon of MySociety, she showed me that is easier than ever to write to my MP Peter Bottomley and keep up to date with his comments in parliament on debates. 

While I still have a long way to go before I think about running for Prime Minister, I have found myself getting excited when I receive an email telling me about his day in parliament. 

If you had said to me a mere week ago that I would be getting giddy about politics, I would have laughed and told you to get another bottle of wine and 2 LARGE glasses. This course is opening up my eyes. 

This afternoon I went to vox pox, which is basically asking random people a question and getting a quote from them on their view of the question asked. I had actually done it before in Australia but the thought of doing it again made me a bit queasy. 

In Australia eight years ago, I briefly worked at a TV station and we interviewed people about a whole manner of things. When it came to my turn, I asked the public on the streets of Perth about drugs. 

I can't remember my exact question, but I do remember at the end of one particular day when we were wrapping up filming, I saw a group of young people and went up to them to ask about their views on drugs. 

They mainly said they loved them and it was all a bit sad really. The camera was then turned off as bigging up drugs was not the angle that we were going for, but I wasn't finished with the teens. 

I kept pushing them asking them to explain why they liked drugs, why they took them, did they not worry about the  consequences? Then just as I was giving up hope, one girl finally answered me honestly. 

Again, this was eight years ago so I can't remember exactly what she said, all I remember is the cameraman recording again and the producer smiling out of the corner of my eye at the turn of events.

There is a random fact for you, I've been on Australian TV. 

Anyway, so this afternoon I went to a soft play centre in Worthing to ask the public's opinion on a topic that is in the news right now. 

Basically, I chose the noisiest, most disruptive place to talk to people because I (must) like a challenge. 

I sat for half an hour going over my question while summoning up the courage to talk to strangers. I needed five good quotes so I was aiming to speak to ten people. 

I scanned the room and zoned in on the people I wanted to talk to, I then sat in my seat for a further 20 minutes taking deep breaths. 

Going up to people and asking their opinion on something is not natural, not for me anyway. Though I knew I would probably never see people I spoke to again, my stomach was still in knots

It took me a while to get out of my seat but once I got going and actually spoke to people, I really enjoyed it. 

It would have been easier if I had known more shorthand as scribbling down as they spoke was quite hard, but I got there in the end. 

It's good to be pushed out of your comfort zone sometimes. When I need to vox pox again, I feel confident that I will shift my butt quicker and get the job done. 

My only concern it that the opinions are a bit one sided, but I couldn't find anyone who thought what I was asking their opinion on was a good idea. That may be  something that I have to work on when interviewing people, trying to get them to see the other side that they may not have thought of. 

I'm looking forward to week two beginning tomorrow, but for now I must get back to my shorthand homework and drill, drill, DRILL! 

What the?

I'm confused about being confused. 

I'm not sure how you would define what I have been doing, seeing him I suppose. 

While laying in bed this morning the guy that I'm 'seeing' (after he invited himself back to mine even though I had said no as my flat was...well, it could have possibly been referred to as a pigsty and I can't even blame Scarlett as I haven't had her this week), he told me to be honest as to what I really thought about him. 

I had spent the night being quite hard on him because I knew what was going to happen and the senario of us being in bed together and them him going off the radar for a week is becoming as predictable as my Tuesday night pizza night.  

So, I didn't beat around the bush and told him that I thought he was a (excuse the language as I try to refrain from swearing in my blogs as it is unnecessary, but I told him I thought he was -and is- a pr*ck. 

Our morning after the night before routine goes like this:- 

• We wake up entwined and groan at the light. 

• He panics that he has work and then calms down and absent mindedly strokes my arm or holds my hand. 

• I tell him to go and get me a drink (of water, I'm not an alcoholic). 

• He moans at the state of my flat, I tell him I can't afford a maid. 

• He gets back in bed and wraps himself around me. 

• I get hot but fight the urge to pull away as I know it won't last long. 

• I then pull away as I don't want him thinking that I'm soft or have any kind of feelings for him. 

• We chat and at the last possible minute, get up to start the day. 

• We get dressed, I drive him home, we kiss, he dissapears for a week. 

• Friday/Saturday night we start the whole debacle again. 

It's no surprise I haven't heard from him since I dropped him home this morning but funnily enough, I'm sure at around 1am he will message me as it's a Saturday-though two nights in a row is unusual for is. 

The above is the first point of confusion, the other is...the other woman. 

His other woman, not mine. I knew last night that he was messaging someone else and he blatantly told me this morning that he really likes her and he even went as far as saying he felt "guilty" for being with me (while laying next to me naked). 

Why do I feel no guilt and why am I not threatened? Because she's not in the country. She's thousands of miles away. So while they "message every day", it's hardly like I have to worry that I'm going to bump into her on the street. Besides if she was here, I'm sure my bed would be empty at the weekends. Though, he did show a flash of jealousy when I talked about another guy. 

Let's call the guy I'm 'seeing' P for convenience. I spoke to P about another guy that I've been 'seeing' (I'm allowed to see another guy as P is messaging another girl and we are not in any kind of relationship- I'm not putting all of my eggs in one basket, I'm clever) well, P wasn't exactly ecstatic to hear that, then crushed any kind of guilt I had when he said: "I should really reply to her." All together now...PR*CK. 

Funnily enough, both P and the other one I'm seeing have a hate/hate relationship with each other because of me. It's totally unfair because neither of them want to commit but apparently I'm not allowed to see anyone else. I'm single, I can. 

Back to P...this love web gets even more complicated as one of P's friends is involved who I dated a while ago (this all sounds really bad but everyone knows everyone around here), it never went anywhere, so I was astounded when this mate of P's threatened to punch P in the face when he saw us kissing one night! 

Onto the fourth point of confusion...or is it the third? I can't keep up. P has met Scarlett, he played catch with her, then she snuggled up to him on the sofa and he didn't attempt to flee. Nice guy, right? 

Then this morning while I was driving him home I saw a woman with a huge bunch of flowers walking down the street. I joked and said she had got them for him and he said: 'shall I jump out and give them to you? No, you're not the romantic type.' 

Am I not? While I don't really want a relationship, I'm still a girl. Having all of this uncertainty is making me a little uneasy. 

Though I know that nothing in this life is simple, I need some sort of definition before I morph into a real girl and get proper feelings for him, which I'm worried could be pretty soon. 

Falling for someone is a chemical reaction and I don't want to explode.

What the hell am I doing? What the hell is he doing? Life would be so much simpler if Johnny Depp just admitted his feelings for me. I'm going to watch Bridget Jones.