This is a story that might only be appreciated by the Brits among us.
We went out to dinner Saturday night at one of those frou-frou restaurants where every dish contains “gruyere” or “arugula” or uses “clean forks.”
Frou-frou.
Anyway, when they showed us the dessert menu, my wife and I picked out an overly-described chocolate dish that sounded as though it was made in a 19-step, 2-day process. You know the type of restaurant description I mean: “Hand-massaged cocoa beans shaved onto a jellied bed of chocolate pudding, surrounded by a chef-kissed bed of roses…(etc., etc.)”
But when they brought it out – and this is the part the Brits will like — it was basically just “Angel Delight”.
Nuthin’ fancy about it. Just ninety-eight pence, Sainsbury’s-bought “Angel Delight”. Which, in a way, was awesome… since I haven’t had “Angel Delight” since I lived in England. But, considering that it was described as though it were the magnum opus of desserts…it made us laugh.