Screaming for Ice Cream

I know my fellow sidekicks and cake enthusiasts what you must be thinking, “Isn’t this blog about cake?” Whoa and what about the enumeration of all the pie posts? Well, pies are implied, hence the subtitle of the blog and after all, they are the cousin of cake. But what about ice cream? I thought long and hard before I decided to post this. So here’s my intelligible premise: ice cream goes with cake, right? Well, and perpetually so, I promised my friend and restaurant owner, Nehme, I would stop by and try his homemade ice cream and if animated so, I would generate a post. So, there you go. My affectionately nicknamed friend, Cherry Pie, came along for the prop. Seeking antioxidant nourishment, she opted for the Pomegranate flavored ice cream, which she described as yummy and creamy. In lieu of the benefits of glowing skin, I took a liking to the Pumpkin Pecan flavored one. This bewildering single scoop of ice cream had me screaming, um no, it was more like caterwauling with happiness! I could hardly contain myself as I dipped into the toil of pecans, real pumpkin shavings, cinnamon and nutmeg. The texture was not creamy but had that Italian ice sort of scheme. If I closed my eyes, I could bamboozle myself into thinking I was indulging into a piece of pumpkin bread. This trendy nook also serves up flavors such as avocado honey, chocolate jalapeño and sweet corn with cinnamon, just to name a few. If you ever find yourself in the mood to wail out for some trendy ice cream, stop by Chadra Mezza Grill in Fort Worth, Texas and treat your palate to a cold and delightful thrill. After all, don’t we all scream for ice cream?

Ain’t No Fly in this Buttermilk Pie

I'm very excited to share with you today a little gem of a town I was able to venture to for a whole afternoon. As I walked the charming and whimsical square of Glen Rose, Texas, a chance encounter with a Buttermilk Pecan Pie served at Anderson’s Restaurant, eulogized the magnetism of what should be a care-free state of mind. At first, I dillydallied over the musing of such a pie. Buttermilk? Ugh! Seriously? I never had acquired the taste of buttermilk and the allegory of “flies in the buttermilk”, well, let’s just say, inhibited the snag even further. To my daunting dismay, however, the ingredients in this pie translated to something vibrant and viable. Oh joy, it was like eating a Pecan praline! The mesh of the cloying filling: buttermilk, vanilla, good seasoned pecans, coconut and white chocolate riveted within a crumble buttermilk topping, depleted any animosity I had towards buttermilk. The stigma of buttermilk is forever gone. Psst, come closer as I whisper…ain’t no fly in this Buttermilk Pecan Pie!

Drunken' Love

Pearl Street Station set bounds to a makeshift kind of happy hour when I got a taste of their reputable Bread Pudding with Jack Daniels whiskey sauce. The medley of a cluster of almonds, Mexican vanilla, cinnamon, sugar, nutmeg and the not so conspicuous, Jack Daniels whiskey sauce mixed in with evaporated milk, definitely enlivened the wet whistle. The bread’s end was finished with a mild crunchy texture that perfectly contrasted the softness of the pudding. This was a dynamite combo, and I can certainly understand why it’s a standard on the menu. Notable also, is the interesting tidbit that the whiskey sauce is not cooked in with the spirited fusion but rather poured in after, giving it that much more of an unyielding appeal. Served warm, every other slapdash of a bite not only gave me a crimson flush but also sent me into an 80 proof of absolute sedation. It was an intoxicating kind of drunken’ love! Cheers, my Bread Pudding Patrons in Granbury, Texas!

L'Art de Roulade

In my paramount belief of the French Paradox, my senses were hypnotized by the mesmerizing Chocolate Roulade gussied up in a pretty silver-foiled, fanned paper cup. The poshed ‘sweet roll’ was composed of a light brown chocolate spongy cake intermingled with a slightly cool indulgent whipped filling. The thick, semi sweet chocolate topping coupled with flourished white chocolate lines on top added to the intensity of this already pretentious pastry. One bite and I could hardly contain my lady like poise and nearly disrupted what should be the proper savoir faire of cake eating! In short, this Roulade was like a French woman, effortlessly elegant and refined. The conviction of this treat was quite engrossing and I can recommend it whole heartedly. The chic, uh, err, I mean classe...chic is so passé it seems, pastry set me in french mode and had me celebrating the utterance of a compliant syllable or two: Délicieux! Ah, Merci Becoup Swiss Pastry in Le Funky Town, Fort Worth! Until my next venture, Bonjour my fellow cake enthusiasts.

Death by Chocolate

The Old Neighborhood Grill in Fort Worth, Texas serves up the most generous slice of deeply appeasing chocolate cake. I would say enough to feed two chocolate enthusiasts at the very least. I, however, ate the cake all by myself. And what is so exceptionally note-worthy about having done that? Nothing really, for we will always want to have our cake and eat it ALL too. I just wondered whether the rear axle of my car would be able to cope with the strain afterward! That was a risk I was willing to take, for this cake was to DIE for, eh and after all, Wednesdays are my reckless days. This chocolate motif was a montage of everything chocolate with three layers of sugar continuity. It was affectionate and toothsome in texture. My body congregated into a blissful chocolate toxin. The spongy cake was moist and the extremely rich frosting was murderous to the senses. It was an absolute remission of sin. Death by chocolate? Very well then. A Post Mortem report from the other side: Glad to say, everything's made of chocolate... hip, hip hooray!

A is for Apple

If Johnny Appleseed's plan was to get the nation hooked on apples, he would have been pleased to see I am hooked on Granny Smith’s Apple cake. This apple lover’s delight suggests the commencement of my favorite season of the year, autumn. Just like the leaves begin to fall during this magical term, so did my love for this lip-puckering cake. It's a dense, moist cake, sullied and amplified by baked apples and walnuts. Embellished with a crisp and sour sliced Granny Smith apple, it’s also one of the prettiest slices of cake I’ve seen. The mixture of cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla and brown sugar sitting jubilantly over a pool of super gooey caramel completely set me into an orchard of joy! The mini pieces of caramelized baked apples nestled cozily into the batter and wallowed there happily, just begging to be eaten. For its plea, I showed great mercy and did just that; blessed are the merciful for they shall be rewarded with a copious harvest of cake! This impressive cake captivated my interest, not only because of its perpetual sweetness, but because it was perfected by an amazing chef who completed his internship at Le Cordon Bleu Culinary Arts Institute in Paris. The age-old adage, "An Apple A Day..." is being more and more clearly substantiated thanks to this breath taking slice of heaven. A is for apple but also for astonishing, admirable and absolutely divine!

Dos Amores ♥♥

I've always found some sort of diversion when drab, somber feelings creep up and intrude. Typically, I'd opt for a power hour shopping spree that might rejuvenate an outfit or buying some senseless item merely because it yelled out clearance! The other option, the most novel idea I had that day of a way to rid the blasphemous feelings, was to bask in the glory of having TWO desserts in the same sitting. This was so much more therapeutic, delicious and might I add, easier on the pocketbook. So, I had an amorous encounter with two very ambrosial desserts, a special Walnut cake and Tiramisu. The Walnut cake, House Specialty, in all its glory was accentuated by a brown sugar and maple syrup concoction making the cake unsoundingly moist. The hint of nutmeg and vanilla, boundless amounts of cinnamon, cute little chopped walnuts and sprinkled snowy-like white powdered sugar perfected its unique being. It was almost suggestive of a meshed composition of Baklavas. It was instant gratification for my tamped soul. Now, meandering to the charming Tiramisu: layers of glamorized Lady Finger biscuits soaked in a savoring espresso coffee, provoked by a double layer of a slightly cool whipped mascarpone cheese filling and finally accentuated by cocoa espresso powder hovering over hints of white powdered sugar. It was refreshing, slightly cool and left an inevitable impression. So, if you ever feel the need to conquer self worth and defeat what is mere melancholy, you might just find a way to do it at a quaint little diner known as Scampi's in Fort Worth, Texas. "Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay...Scuzza me, but you see, back in old Napoli, that's Amore!"

I've Got a Crush on You!

General consensus from my own unofficial poll taken over the weekend concluded that very few people had heard of Pineapple Pie and much worse, never tasted one. So, I was completely elated when I was invited to try Paris Coffee Shop’s Pineapple Pie, served only on Mondays. The flavors of this pie worked beautifully together: the light golden pie crust embodied by a pineapple custard-like filling with tidbits of crushed pineapple in every single bite and nestled to perfection under what appeared to be a whopping three inch lightly scorched meringue. The hymns of praise eluded from my mouth after the very first bite! True nature has manifested into this tropical flair! The pie was wonderfully serendipitous, delightful to the taste buds, delectable to the palate and did I mention, because it's pineapple, the instant ‘throw in’ of essential Vitamins A and C. Va-Va Voom… I never eat anything that’s not beneficial to my health or my taste buds! This pie is a serious contender to all the others that were beautifully showcased or perhaps only on Mondays, it morphs into global domination. The extravagant affair I was having with this pie, put me in my own luau state of mind. Oh Pineapple Pie, I’m so crushing on you!

I think I've Died and Gone to Heaven

The word PIE has to be a sultry acronym for Precise Intense Eating! Paris Coffee Shop serves up the most of the quintessential Coconut Cream Pies. This pie crust was no cracker crumb aficionado; faux paus crusts are sooo not cool. The homemade crust was airy, yet had a rich texture filled with a thickened coconut flavored pudding gloriously layered with a water melting meringue and then finally topped with gorgeous, toasted coconut flakes. The decoupage of the intensely sweet layers, gave me the greatest feeling and relief coupled with giddy anticipation of having finally found the most decadent Coconut Cream Pie on the face of this universe! There's a chemical released when you eat this pie that produces the hysterical adrenaline necessary for wanting to take your passions and dreams further in life. Well okay, so it sounds a bit overdramatic but seriously uh huh...it's the pie enzyme! OMG, OMG, OMG *swoon! This pie makes me feel like assessing all the unmentionables (take that to be interpreted as you may). Experiences this enjoyable should be illegal. If the quote "You'll have pie in the sky when you die" dares to be taken literally, then kill me painfully and oh so slowly and let me go to pie heaven!

The Sweetest Little Things...

I toppled onto Hot Rodz Café in Terrell, Texas, where they served up one of the most iconic of American traditions…pie, only moon shaped and petite and oh so cute and oh so marvelous! So, the idea of packaged little pies typically found in fast food restaurants always sent me into a frizzled frenzy….eeeww fried, greasy pies! Contrary to what appears that I don’t endow in good eating habits, I don’t eat fried foods but I was open to testing the relative merits of what is deep-fried. The glory of a fried pie resulted in a satisfied tummy and comforted soul. This place gave you the choice of peach, apple, cherry or chocolate fried pie; I opted for the apple one. If a baked turnover was delicate and refined, the FRIED one was outrageously, amazingly luscious. Served up warm, this pastry was puffy and crisp on the edges and sprinkled with powdered sugar, but tender and pillowy within. The filling of finely cut apples sautéed with cinnamon and butter no longer posed an eating hazard. In fact, I would have traded a clogged artery or two given the opportunity to eat more than one in the same sitting. The two mini scoops of Blue Bell vanilla ice cream on top was just enough to add more pleasure to the palate. If you just happen to be asking if these little hand pies would make a perfect breakfast pastry, well then, the answer would probably be a resounding YES! I could have these for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Aaah…it’s truly the little things that count!