If you're constantly sugar-starved like me, and become very snappy when sharing a box of assorted Van Houten chocolates with a bunch of like-minded grubby munsters, then you're probably understand how I felt at 2 a.m. dessert bar.
Yawn-sational.
I don't understand the concept of it at all. Is it a dessert joint or a bar - as in an alcoholic checkpoint? The decor stirred up mixed reactions - firstly of nostalgia, since the concept was very similar to a joint I love in Siem Reap called Blue Pumpkin. Secondly of
yuckiness, since the colors clashed...white seats and cushions (pretty cheap ones really) with multi-earth-toned tables and counters. The place is not that large to begin with, so browns would just shrink the space more. Thirdly, the lights were yellow and too bright for a chill-out session with friends, that special someone or just to wind down after a hard day's work.
Regardless, my friend and I found a cosy spot and dominated the corner facing the window on the long daybed flanked on one side of the dessert place. The service, I must say, is timely and pretty efficient. Apparently, the owner herself even served tables that night, including ours. And the manager of the outfit was more than nice and chatty to us.
But see, that doesn't redeem them of the slightly bigger than miniscule desserts printed in microscopic font on the menu. Unforgivable, really. For a dessert joint that opens from 6pm - 2am, the dessert selection is seriously wanting of good old Granny Smith Apple Pie, Old-Fashioned Cheesecake with fun versions, and Molten Lava Chocolate; None of which could be found. Honestly, the desserts we ordered were teeny-weeny, and unsatisfyi
ng to say the least.
The chocolate warm tart with a thin, crispy crust cradled overflowing saucy chocolate - and this experience should have been divine for a chocoholic like me, but I found myself downing water to somehow save my throat after two small spoonfuls. The thin crust, in my opinion, should have been cake instead to absorb at least some of the molten chocolate, topped with frozen vanilla bean ice-cream. And the whole makan experience would have been savoured. Instead of ice-cream, blood orange sorbet was presented instead and boy, was it sweeeeet! Saccharine sweet. Only a dollop was served, I noticed, as opposed to a full scoop.
If this is designer dessert, then it really needs a makeover overhaul. "Designer" should infer genuinity, quality and lots of love. Not attempts at nouveau art and skinny creative servings. We ordered the Twix after that whole warm chocolate debacle to give them another chance. I mean, what are the chances of finding 1 indulgent dessert among a paltry 8 right? Guess again.
Expresso is described as warm mascarpone foam, Kahlua jelly, crumble with expresso ice-cream. How did that go? Forgettable. A top local food critic once said that if you can't remember what you put in your mouth, then it wasn't worth remembering anyway.
With names such as "Twix", "Green Tea" and "Cheesecake", no one could blame you if you can't recall them 5 minutes after having ordered them. The names are too generic.
It's time to bring back desserts as how they were created to be - fulfilling sizes, rich creams, decadent ice-cream and chockful of character.
