I didn’t mean to do it. Really.
I was just ordering a coffee after my meal the other evening when the waiter told me that the chef was testing a new dessert and begged me with wringing hands to try it. Wringing hands, I tell you. Over his left shoulder I could see the chef in his open plan kitchen, red faced and perspiring, waving both thumbs up at me, clearly sure that I would not be able to resist.
The plate arrived.
Oh my. On one side of the plate was a slice of chocolate and hazelnut semi-frozen bavarois and on the other side a slice of white chocolate. Topped with hazelnuts (I’m definitely going through a hazelnut period in my life at the moment) and drizzled with dark chocolate.
“What’s it called?” I asked the waiter. “Chef hasn’t given it a name yet” he said.
He should call it semi-freddo sinfulness.