CARROT CAKE REVIEW N0 15 - A White Oil Slick Fights Back
Matlock Bath, Derbyshire.
As if the giddy exhilaration of the cable cars lifting you up from the River Derwent really wasn't enough. You then take a tour down into to the dark murky and damp depths of the Masson Cavern. Bang your head a few times on your way to view the remains of the candlelit work of generations of lead miners hundreds of feet beneath the ground. Could it be possible to match or exalt this heaven then hell experience on the confectionery level, with a humble carrot cake?
As you take in the stunning views of the valley beneath you from the modern airy cafe you could be forgiven for believing you're perched on a white fluffy cloud observing what fools these mortals be. But nothing can bring you hurtling back down to earth on a stiflingly hot Easter Weekend, quicker than a half arsed carrot cake with a latte chaser.
Admittedly the latte was in a tall glass, not the cup and saucer of an ignoramus. Someone who believes a latte is the identical twin of a cappuccino, but served in different crockery, should be sent back to barista school for moral correction. Choosing the correct cup is, even then, no guarantee, nor a saving grace for a feeble latte, which however milky, tastes dry and powdery on the palate. Someone burnt the milk in their haste.
Finally we come to the carrot cake. Was it below or above average? Recollecting it now I'm hard pressed to come down with a favourable thing to say about it. If this were a heavily overweight man, who on a day where the temperature frequently exceeded twenty six degrees centigrade, had just walked up the steep hills from the river rather than fork out for the cable car, he couldn't have ended up more sweaty than this cake. Straight out of the chiller and into the sultry atmosphere of a cafe on heat, what do you expect Vidyavajra? Well, they could allow it acclimatise and catch its breath.
To my experienced eye the layered quality of a carrot cake was evident, the texture on the mouth had at least the feeling of carroty strands. But what the hell has happened here? There was hardly any discernible carrot flavour. As is quite usual with such poor quality carrot cakes this was semi drowned in the spice mix, this time with nuggets of nuts floating about in it. Regular readers should know my mantra by now so I don't really need to say it yet again, do I? I do? A Spice Cake Is Not a Carrot Cake! There its done now, with a delicious exclamation mark for added emphasis. A good carrot cake will be moist but if this moistness veers into a frankly doughy consistency, it becomes the epitome of claggy. Was it undercooked or recently defrosted, most probably both.
So to that frosting, apart from doing a passable imitation of an white oil slick, it was really really sweet but in a profoundly artificial way. It had a chemical after taste, as though someone had a slip of the hand with the saccharin drops. But it was stiff and sturdy, thankfully, it was not the slippery companion to that sweaty surface sheen. Also they'd rendered the outer edges with a gravel of chopped nuts, which though these enhanced the textural experience during mastication. added little to the overall flavour. Well, at least it had a walnut to decorate its top. There, I found something eventually I really appreciated about it - a walnut.
CARROT CAKE SCORE - 3/8
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