January 1st, resolution time again. This year I decided I was going to dispense with the usual giving up smoking and cutting down drinking bollocks, and resolve to do something I think I might actually be able to achieve. So it is that this year I have resolved to write a book. They say everyone has one in them, so I figured I'd try and get mine out of me and onto the page. Admittedly, when I first thought about this I saw myself penning a modern fantasy masterpiece, selling the rights to Hollywood, and sitting pretty the rest of my days. These delusions of grandeur quickly faded after a couple of false starts. The masterpiece is currently on hold.
My dream, you see, is to make a decent living for myself as a freelance writer. I have spent the majority of my time at work and at home, looking for information on the subject on the Internet. It has been most enlightening. I am going to make a go of it this year, and hopefully I shall find some degree of success.
I digress however. I should be introducing what I hope will become a book, and not giving you, dear reader, an insight in to the delicate workings of my fragile mind.
This is about puddings. Yes, you read that right; the opus I hope to write is about dessert. It is a subject dear to my heart. You see, five years ago I moved out of home, bought my own place, and started what I affectionately refer to as the Mortgage Diet. At this point pudding became one of those things deemed as "Not Essential To Survival". I had to abstain from adding them to my shopping list. I can tell you, giving up smoking would have been easier.
Every cloud has a silver lining though, and in this case my circumstances meant that when I did get dessert it tasted so much better. I had achieved a higher level of pudding enjoyment. But I have not yet reached Nirvana. My quest, however, has begun.
It started in July 2006. My girlfriend, at the time, and I went for a drive one evening in search of place to have a quiet, romantic drink. We ended up in Stratford. We spent what seemed like an eternity looking for a parking space, before we were finally able to get down to the serious business of finding a place to have a quiet drink.
I was being far too picky about the sort of place we should go, being a bit of a perfectionist I like things to be just right, and we passed by many different places. As we turned to walk down Sheep Street the heavens opened. This was no time to be picky and so we jumped in to the first place we could get to. This place was a nice little café / wine bar named The Vintner, and it was one hell of a chance discovery.
We were shown to a table for two near the window of the bar area, and we took our seats. I remember feeling a little under-dressed for the place. I had just come from work, had lost my tie and was wearing a pair of black converse with white laces. I was looking borderline respectable, if anything.
Our waiter came and asked for our drinks orders. I was feeling in quite a playful mood now that I was sat down and so, on a whim, I asked to see the dessert menu. The waiter duly obliged and started reading through it and was soon to say the words that would leave me momentarily speechless. These words were "Our cheesecake of the day is Double Chocolate Brownie and Raspberry". My ability to speak returned, I had to clarify what I had just heard. I interrupted as he continued reading the dessert list. "I'm sorry" I said "Did you say, cheesecake of the day?" He confirmed that he had indeed said such, and then repeated what that day's particular cheesecake was. "Sold" I said "Don't worry about the rest of the menu, I'll have the cheesecake". After much persuasion, my girlfriend at the time ordered a crème brulee for herself. "Cheesecake of the day" I kept repeating, "Honey, we're definitely coming back here." It was agreed that we would.
It should be pointed out here, that cheesecake is my all time favourite pudding. They say the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and in my case a sure fire way to get there at double time is to ply me with cheesecake. Take note, all would be suitors.
Anyway, the cheesecake took some time in arriving, and in the time it took to arrive; the seed of this idea had been well and truly planted. It blossomed through our conversation, and I became convinced that my purpose in life was to travel the country and sample puddings; to later write a review of them and, eventually, publish a book.
I wanted to do something a little different than just write about puddings though. I wanted to explore the history of this particular course of a meal, to unearth its origins, to celebrate it and promote it. After all, if we're being honest, it's the best part of any meal. Puddings should be, and can be, enjoyed without the fear of gaining weight. Clearly, if you eat multiple puddings a day, do chuff all exercise, have an un-balanced dietary regime, and spend most of your time on the couch; then you're going to put on some weight. However, if you approach puddings with a sensible attitude of everything in moderation, lead a healthy life-style and get exercise; then the occasional dessert is not going to do you any harm. So go on, next time you're out for a meal don't go straight for the coffee course once the main meal has been cleared away. Take a moment, peruse the delicacies on offer on the sweet menu / trolley / board, and think "Maybe this time I will have dessert"
Anyway, back to the cheesecake. It was the second most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. The first most beautiful, of course, was sat opposite me and smiling as I salivated over the dessert set in front of me. I had to take a picture of it with my new phone, this picture is available on my myspace page; it is simply called The Cheesecake!!
It wasn't so much a cheesecake, it was more a slice of chocolaty heaven on a plate. The flavour was fantastic, something that repeated visits to The Vintner would confirm as standard; and the sharp taste of the raspberries came through and complimented the flavour of the double chocolate brownie; a flavour as thick and textured, if such attributes can be assigned, as the dessert itself.
If I had any complaints at all, and I suppose for a balanced account I should, it would be that it didn't feel like a cheesecake. There was no crumbly base, the traditional "cheese" aspect was replaced with what I can only describe as a brick of double chocolate brownie; and the entire thing was rather heavy, not light and fluffy like I like my cheesecakes. These few drawbacks aside, it was a most enjoyable pudding. Maybe not one for the cheesecake purists out there, but definitely a must for all chocoholics out there. If it happened to be the Cheesecake of the Day on one of my future visits then I'd definitely have it again.
And that is how this Pudding Book idea got started.
