I was out for lunch the other day. An Irish pub with the nummiest stew imaginable. Which had a light, flakey incredible crust on top. Oh yeah, was it delicious.
And then, as I was throwing in the towel, about to burst Tommy, wicked, wicked man that he is, comes over and asks if we saved room for dessert. Apparently one of the other pub employees has started her own bakery and provides them with weekend sweets. This week’s was dark chocolate mint cake. Like there’s a chance in hell I’d turn down a taste of that!
Being stuffed to the gills, the friend I was dining with and I opted to split a piece. Oh. My. God. There are no words to describe how good it was. So good it would be illegal in at least seven states. Probably more. The cake was moist and rich, dark chocolate. And the icing, of which there was a lot, had mint so fresh it cooled your tongue. To say the least, mmm!
Next time, I asking about dessert and probably having it first!
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