Can I be honest with you? I don’t like pretentious desserts. I don’t like the bite size portions of something like vanilla custard flan topped with sweetened elderflower seedlings on a bed of bitter chocolate orange glaze or whatever. I find it weird and slightly twisted, like they are forcing together a jigsaw puzzle that just DOES NOT match!
And let’s be honest – the only thing I know about elderberries is that your father smelt of them!
– Monty Python 🙂
Anyways, as I continue my rant about these significantly tiny, wussy desserts, let me add one part which has always been the straw that broke the camel’s back. Pears poached in red wine.
I know, I understand that a ton of high class adults would be shuddering right now and Psycho’s high pitched violin is roaring in some of your heads but seriously. Ew.
Firstly the colour – pears are not red. Nor will they ever be. That is why have apples remember? Secondly the flavour. Oh my, when I ate a little it was like the sickly sweet cherry flavoured cough syrup – it burns the throat and is disgusting! Thirdly, it was served with a tiny sliver which I count as a crumb, of chocolate cake. Now serving something so vile is just unjust and unforgivable in the face of chocolate.
Go Bake Yourself 