Chocolate Cake

Blogging on request. Huh. A little further west than the last time I did this, to my recollection, but here goes anyway.

Chocolate cakes can be odd things. The smaller and darker they are, the greater the effect they seem to have on girls. As if there's a complete loss of self-control whenever the scent of chocolate is in the air. The way I look at them, chocolate cakes are sort of like the frivolous aspect of pastries. They serve very little purpose in terms of nutritional value, and are certainly less serious than a pound cake, for instance. A chocolate cake is designed to be sweet, heavy, indulgent. Most versions involve sticky, gooey messes of cocoa derivations that constantly threaten to stain a cheek or shirt or dress. For this reason, I suppose, a chocolate cake would be inappropriate for any occasion that demands a certain level of decorum. For instance, a chocolate cake might be served as dessert after a meal with family or friends in a restaurant, or at a birthday party. Something like that. Whereas it would not be so appropriate for a business luncheon or formal dinner. Imagine trying to close a deal with an important client with chocolate stains on your tie. Hardly worth thinking about. So take note, all you eager little bankers and whatnots out there, no chocolate cake when still on the job.

A chocolate cake is viewed as a sort of indulgence, and this indulgence has become a standard, thereby losing its status as an indulgence. Look at any dessert menu in America, and you will see a chocolate confection of some kind. I recall when I was a child, and chocolate based confections were not nearly as common as they are today. Today, I would think nothing of a chocolate cake being brought out for dessert. When I was a far smaller creature than I am now, chocolate cake was a treat, a delight. Of course, if I had not viewed chocolate cake as such a delight, I might still be a far smaller creature than I am now.

Strangely enough, when you think about it, chocolate cakes are an odd type of indulgence. A decadent treat should be something that is far above the ordinary, and is considered superior to most other things in the same category. If not, there would be no reason to indulge in something when there is a less guilt-inducing alternative. Yet none of the memorable desserts that stand out in the limp sea of my mind have been chocolate cakes. I recall a fabulous lemon tart, all light and breeze upon my tongue. Chocolate ckes, to my recollection, have almost always been heavy things, reliant upon overpowering flavours to pummel your taste buds into submission. I suppose chocolate cakes are to pastry as perhaps barbeque ribs are to meats. Considered an indulgence, but lacking in any subtlety. Try to imagine a sublime barbeque rib. What might come to mind is a wave of flavour and texture. What is desired is accomplished, but hardly the best experience possible. The guilt that should accompany such indulgence is strangely stronger for the single dimension of pleasure. How can you feel guilty for eating a lemon tart that draws a smile out of your lips whenever it comes to mind?

But I have come to grow weary of pursuing that perfect pastry, with complexity and depth, leaving an indelible mark on the memory. Perhaps resorting to chocolate cakes to satisfy that sweet tooth, without worrying about finding extra dimensions to the taste sensation, would be be easier and ultimately more satisfying for not failing to meet lofty expectations. After all, how can you be disappointed when all you ask for is what you get? And if there is something beyond the transient blast of taste, that is a surprise, more likely an anomaly than anything else. Still, for the moment, having given up looking for the ultimate lemon tart, there is no rush to scrabble for chocolate cakes. I can hardly even bring myself to finish eating those cakes that do find their way onto my plate these days, let alone go about searching for dessert.

In case you still haven't cottoned on, I'm not talking, or typing, really, about chocolate cakes.