I woke up one morning and found a surprise in the fridge – a classy, red box with a golden label that reads, ‘Chocolat!’
I can rightfully assume, based on the type of packaging, that something good, something really good, is cooking inside. It's screaming indulgence.
The sight sent excitement rushing through my bloodstream. No sooner did I find myself opening the lid, slowly, with mouth agape and eyes wide open. I was at the cusp of discovering something very rich, very satisfying, one could not help but wonder what special occasion could it possibly be that day (or has been) to merit this kind of surprise. I couldn’t think of any.
Just a few moments later and, voila! Pure indulgence, pure pleasure displays itself in front of my eyes. I was in awe. For a brief moment I felt time standing still.
A revelation of rich chocolate goodness - precious brown cargo of custard-like chocolate ensconced in the middle by double layers of moist cake, topped with silken chocolate frosting and fine shavings of native tablea. It is further accented by the golden disk where it is sitting atop, which made it look like royalty.
Light creates magic to its flirty swirls and curves.
It taunts. It seduces. And I submitted with nary a resistance.
The arresting nature of its attack aptly suits its moniker, Death by Tablea. Sweet, deadly temptation, this cake is.
The catchy, albeit morbid, name works to its advantage but to someone having blood sugar issues, it might as well be a death sentence. Good thing I was able to get hold of myself and realized I am not going to give this b#$ch! the satisfaction of living up to its name.
Well, maybe just a little.
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