It’s a Cookie, yo!

It doesn’t take a brain to tell you that when we say frozen yogurt cookie, expect something sour in between. No, the frozen thing in the middle does not magically turn into sweet creamy bliss once sandwiched in between cookies. The laws of matter tell us that once a yogurt, always sour. If any, it gets more sour as the minutes pass. 

Yoh-froz came up with this frozen yogurt-cookie sandwich to battle the likes of Sebastian’s ice cream (my favorite) and the DQ sandwich cookie. Of course if you want ice cream-sweet, then go for the others. However if you are on a diet, the Yoh-Froz cookies will do.

I went for the nastily named Frookie Monster, because my undying love for oreo made me do it. The oreo bits (if it was even Oreo) were painstakingly crushed and went strangely with the frozen yogurt.

The first few bites can be surprising since I was expecting cookies and cream, not cookies and sour cream.  Still, it was strange yet satisfying and future crave-worthy.

Imagine my dismay when the Yoh-Froz at Hobbes and Landes Trinoma disappeared all of a sudden. Guess it’s back to Red Mango. 

Crepe Me Out (La Creperie)

If you are a frustrated princess, there are only two places where you could fulfill that fantasy sans the crown, tiara and killer scepter: La Creperie and Vanilla Cupcake Company. There’s also Etude House, but the ladies in waiting don’t serve tea and only call you princess out of spite and their job performance review.

We visited La Creperie in Eastwood not because of dreams of extravagance or royalty—I would rather be a vampire than wear a petticoat—but because Tous Les Jours does not serve cakes by the slice, and we were in need of a sugar fix. At 9 in the evening. There are just some days when you do and when it comes, saying no will just set you on fire.

And so to bring this sugar high to the extreme, I ordered what I normally shouldn’t 2 hours before bedtime and at this day and age, must not, when I do not have an actual sport to burn off all the ingested fat: Mango Hazelnut au Chocolat. Nutella, chocolate crepe and caramel sauce make a triple threat to my being but “no” cannot be the option. Finish the crepe to the last morsel, and I did.

This was a satisfying soft bundle of chocolate and nutella, with actual fruit that just as well, burst with sugar. It can certainly bring anyone to a sugar high, brought to a pump of moderation with La Creperie’s pricey tea (Paris Singapore by TWG). The price you have to pay for the kettle, I know. But what can I do, bring my own Lipton? *lightbulb flashes*

Seemingly, the Strawberry Mango Jubilee in front of me was a fruity frenzy, complete with a soupy atmosphere (that was the orange rum sauce) that was a bit more expensive than my triple choco threat. Still, if I would stuff myself silly with sugar and starch, I might as well go all the way with syrupy sweet chocolate and nutella—the works. Anything with a hint of citrus is just screaming with Vitamin C, and this is why we take multivitamins in the morning.

And so, La Creperie is that dainty place where you bring your besties for a bit of tete-a-tete or long lost friend for a reunion with teabags to drown those tears.

And if still you don’t get high from all that caffeine, sugar and story-swapping, then I suggest dropping a kettle on the floor. That ought to do the trick. 

A Blondie Moment

They say blondes have all the fun, but the Blondie Bar by Sonja’s Cupcakes (Serendra) is often overlooked and ignored in favor of the more colorful cupcake bunch. The brunettes (like that choco cream pie) and red (velvet vixen) heads have better mileage in Sonja’s little  shop, but for those who like to look up at the cookie jars, that’s where this flaxen treasure lies.

The Blondie Bar may pale in comparison to the creamed up cupcakes and shimmering denizens of the lower chiller, but for those who’ve tasted it, they will agree that “Everyone loves blondes.”

The main bar may be a simple composition with buttery flair but interspersed with walnuts and chunks of Valrhona chocolate (dark and white), this turns into a blonde bombshell. Nothing compares to its morsels of sweet gratification and fresh oven baked texture. Great with tea, better enhanced when warmed up, the Blondie Bar is everything but dumb.

If any, it’s dumbfounding.

So no more crying when Sonja’s runs out of the Bunny Huggers carrot cake or Valrhona milk-choco hazelnut tart. The Blonde is in.

And no more blonde jokes.

Let the Cakes Begin: Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf

While folks pour in Starbucks and Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf (CBTL) for their Christmas stamps, I veer away from this trend of pouring out more cash – during the very season I need it the most. Hence, no drinks for me. December is drought season.

But cakes are very much welcome, as always. A girl’s gotta eat.

Starbucks with its perpetual queue was out of my impatient list, giving CBTL the opportunity to amaze me with their chiller stash. And so let the cake weekend begin.

Blueberry Cheesecake

CBTL cheesecakes are known for being on the rich and satisfying side, the Triple Decker Cheesecake being a five-star class on its own. The Blueberry Cheesecake looked just as luscious from afar, it was time to get ahold of this purple presence.

The cheesecake dominated the entire serving which was lovely, though the graham crust was a bit on the boring side. The cheesecake has a citrus-y hint that not everybody might welcome. It’s very subtle though, and I noticed it only because I was eating way slower than usual. All in all, this is a superb cheesecake but sinful as I am, the Triple Decker would always be my top-of-mind preference.

Chocolate Fudge Cake

Similar to Starbucks’ Chocolate Cake, CBTL’s counterpart, well, just looks the part. Fudgy and 100% chocolate, it is the undeniable draw for anyone who wants a sweet kick. A bite though would simply reveal its true nature that it is far from the Starbucks variety. A bit crumbly and the chocolate frosting just not “it” I would pass up this CBTL creation.

After all, with cheesecakes and cookies galore, why settle for a lesser cake? And don’t worry some Starbucks cakes have issues too (and it starts with VIA).

Pinky Swear: Pinkerton Ice Cream

A taste of Pinkerton Ice Cream can be quite a life changing and mood altering experience, there is now a more sensible alternative to alcohol, herbs and the occasional punching bag. A dollop can get you out of that suicidal disposition, and as an added bonus, will elevate your foodie ranking to ultimate gourmand. Congratulations on this unexpected promotion.

Because after a taste of Pinkerton, you can’t view ice cream in the same unbiased and innocent manner. The commercial produce will forever be reduced to proletarian treats, while gourmet ice cream like Pinkerton, elevated to majestic snacking—thus dismissing Magnum and its royalty-inspired ad as pure disconnect.

Pinkterton Ice cream is homemade and fresh, and offers an assortment of crafty flavors, we will never turn back to plain vanilla or just mocha. Mile-long names are the new cookies and cream, and chocolate is slammed to the mental abyss. If I hear another Rocky Road, you’re in for that endless road of tasteless oblivion.

With Banana Nutella, Cake Batter with Sprinkles and Blueberry Cheesecake at the tip of the iceberg list, I lie not when I write that it took me a day to decide on my first buy. And a sleepless night counting sprinkles.

The Dynamic Duo for Depression

Eventually, I settled for Red Velvet (pardon the cliché, having dissed this flavor in earlier posts) and Carrot Cake with Honey Glazed Walnuts (a no-brainer for the carrot lover). While both may have intertwined flavors and cake bases, this has been resolved for my cake fantasies will never be laid to rest without sampling the two.

And so sweet and with an unmatched creaminess, the ice cream is superb. The cakes interspersed in the ice cream are just as divine and offer none of that inadequacy of the common chiffon. It makes me wonder which I like better, cake or ice cream—a conundrum best solved by just enjoying it collectively.

The carrot cake especially is mixed in greater proportion, it’s like eating cake infused with ice cream. Mild hints of cinnamon and honey bring a sense of comfort for the forlorn and the chunkiness of the walnut introduces that much needed crunch.

Pinkterton is something you bring home and savor in moments of dire, hair raising frustration, on forgotten birthdays and Gossip Girl marathons.

It can spice up any dull day when nothingness fills your schedule, and on the other side of the planner spectrum, the best way to wind down a traumatic day.

With other interesting flavors to complete the Pinkterton spectrum—like sorbet or organic honey—a next time is certainly mandated.

Friday night outs are off the list of stress busters since I like mine sweet, cold and best served at home. Nothing beats Pinkteron in this department, except maybe a rock concert.

But wait, I have been continuously blabbing about Pinkerton Ice Cream, I have not even given a background on this fabulous find. It’s a homemade ice cream brand produced by Xandra Rocha, made to order and picked up after a day or two. They make the ice cream upon order, so customized is a better way to put it.

When you see the list of flavors, I bid you a sleepless night as well.

Untangling Messy Norte

Apparently 9pm signals the clearing of the battlefield known as Mezza Norte—with tables finally floating into the line of sight and vendors finding the time to breathe in, and out. It’s amazing how much smorgasbord of gastronomic treasures these tents hold, amidst the smoky haze and a diversity of aroma depending on where you sit. Fine weather also permitted setting up more tables under the stars, UP Technohub lights and closer to the Commonwealth traffic.

We were stationed in El Poco Mejico—otherwise known as Mexicanto—and sat alongside simmering corn chips and cheese. However I was craving for another continent’s produce, so off I went and found the wraps place.

As it turns out, the wraps place has a proper name: Wrap Battle. While deciding between Tofu with Asian Dressing or Grilled Eggplant with Balsamic Vinaigrette, the Chicken Pesto was being assembled. With a thick smear of pesto, cabbage, cheese, onions and chicken strips—that pesto’s grassy allure was salvation to the famished and in less than a minute it was mine to behold.

At P100, it was a gigantic wrap, quite the steal and the ultimate hunger buster. A bit hefty on the cabbage side, this I did not mind (okay, I loved it). If given a next time, I’d like to try that tawilis (that’s fish) number or maybe the grilled eggplant. Or maybe both.

As much as it shames me, I had a photo taken. Twice. Were my pupils dilated? Dying of curiosity, the stalker in me found Wrap Battle’s Facebook page and one heck of a hazy photo. La fee verte from pesto.

Bumble Tea is always queued but I found one second of emptiness and went for the Pulpy Aloe Juice (Mango) at 25% sweetness. At a quarter, 25% or just ¼ of the original sweetness, my drink seemed more like 125% syrup. The opposite for my friend whose dark chocolate-rock salt and cheese at 50% was bland. I propose an assembly line for the vendors, or better yet, a shot of red bull. That should help with the math.

Lastly, Merry Moo never fails to disappoint. This time, the Strawberry Shortcake unraveled fruity sweetness with awesome chunks of cake in between. A better form of ice cream cake, bathed in my favorite strawberry goodness, not even Mochiko’s Oreo Bestseller (I had that too) could offer such gourmet dessert delight.

This time, the cat bows to the cow.

P.S.

My earlier Mezza “Messy” Norte post was written during the horrible Habagat season, which is why references to hair, tangles and anything disturbing are abound. You’d do the same thing too if caught in a hurricane on a bad hair day.

 

Death by Parvati Chocolate

Deprived of chocolate for what seemed like eternity, it was time to wave the white flag of fake fitness and resume the choco-haulic hoarders association.

As always Parvati (Trinoma) was the prime choice, on account of its location and hypnotic freezers—which aren’t entirely chilled—especially the cookie section. I tried to hide there once, so yes, I make a valid witness.

In no mood for cheesecake or the timidity of carrot cake, the orders were down to The Dome and The Decadent Cocosugar Chocolate Cake (Sugar Free). Competing in terms of cocoa intensity and swirly frosting, this mash-up should bash any depth of depression.

Guess the name: That Orbit, Mega Eclair or Choco Chow

The Dome, upon closer look, manages to bear strange similarities with a giant éclair and for the more imaginative, a bowl of dog food. The shimmering frosting and the chocolate chips that adorn the fringe can certainly torment the hungry, though in real life, I’d rather it be classified as a Baby Dome. Or how about The Orb?

Chocolate all over and with that nutella cream at the center, The Dome is what you eat when you are depressed, anorexic or dying of low blood sugar. The first few bites can certainly bring that chocolate bliss that can kill any sweet urge for decades. After the return of the common sense though, there are points to ponder as well: the chocolate cake relies on the cream for that moist effect and without it, remains as a boring block of chiffon.

The chocolate frosting is all right but could do with a bit more cocoa surge, while the chocolate chips are not as value-adding in terms of the taste factor. Thanks to that creamy center, The Dome justifies its compelling name, and with a less appealing core, would just be reduced to That Orb.

The Chocolate Cake that brings a new meaning to the word Decadent.

With a name so long, you’d probably expect an equally lengthy ode to The Decadent Cocosugar Chocolate Cake (Sugar Free), but I’ll spare you the burden of reading and summarize my usually wordy thoughts.

The chocolate cake is stiff, devoid of any form of “moist” or softness, and lacks any form of acceptable flavor despite christening itself as a decadent cake. The swirly icing is a tad too sweet but nothing gratifying. Whether the cake was old or kept in a bin of rice grains, its dehydrated form was certainly thes death of my taste buds.

While The Dome wasn’t exactly Willy Wonka variety, it at least had a shred of palatability to revive my pending death from the Sugar Free Chocolate Cake.

Still, I apologize to the cheesecake; I will never abandon you ever again

Go Fish!

This crunchy Dory goes by no English name, so we like to refer to it as the Fish Ice Cream or the Korean Fish. The English Alphabet fails to grace the packaging as well, leaving us with so much imagination as to the ingredient listing or catchy write-up of the Fish Ice Cream. Does it start with “Here fishy, fishy?” Or how about, “Tastes better than Kimchi.”

Ah, forget it.

The nutrition facts portion does provide a ray of hope, posting 200 kcal and what seem to be loads of fat percentages. However when compared vis-a-vis fellow grocery chiller item Magnum, the Fish Ice Cream posts a better “health” return, in terms of calories and sugar. That much I can figure out. 

For 200 calories, this is quite a catch for those yearning for a suitable dessert while minimizing the excess load (i.e. sugar, ice cream, Magnum or even frozen yogurt). On top of that, the fish wafer is such a delightful thing to look at, it took me a while to realize that ice cream was melting, it had to be eaten.

This is one of those instances when keeping a photo proves to be handy, although there’s also the risk that it would make me hungry.

Inside the fish wafer are vanilla ice cream and adzuki beans to warm that sweet tooth. Don’t expect the fish to be that crisp crackling wafer that pops from the package. Science should explain that the moist level of the packaging coupled with its liquid interior will certainly seep into the wafer, creating a softer and chewy feel. 

Still, there’s that sweet vanilla fill that the Fish Ice Cream provides, sans the overbearing chocolate or nuts that can get stuck in your teeth. 

At P41 (Landmark Grocery) per fish, there’s nothing fishy about this treat, other than being shaped like a fish. 

Go fish!

Konnichiwa, Green Tea and Blueberry Cheesecake

Last time I took a walk in broad daylight, I was met with eerie-strangers-holding-fraps in every corner, which led me to think that this Starbucks Hojicha has come to haunt me.

“Ho-ji-cha!” Ho-ji-chaaaa!” Yamero! (Stoooopp!!)

All right then! Alas, before the fear could drive me to get that hoji-cup, I heard strange stories about the Hojicha + Earl Grey Jelly (too sweet, tastes like the forest) that made me ditch the drink and go for something more solid, green and table-worthy.

Itadakimasu!

Konnichiwa, Green Tea and Blueberry Cheesecake! For a cheesecake and green tea lover, this was something I could not run away from. Best of all, it doesn’t have those annoying adzuki beans that really leave bad teeth stains.

Top layer consists of that white chocolate (?) that more jelly-like than creamy. It had that very strange flavor I could not detect, but it would seem strange if I suddenly asked Starbucks for the ingredient listing of a slice of cheesecake. And so let’s just call it that white viscous layer that needs a knife to cut through.

The “mantle” is the best part, green tea-infused cheesecake, to be followed by blueberry cheesecake. The green tea cheesecake was remarkable, but rather sweet in the Hojicha fashion—a valid “sweet” reference, I believe. Little bits of blueberry floated on the other layer, which would be a welcome for those looking for fruit, jelly or just the color purple.

Lastly, the graham crust remains a staple (green tea-graham would be asking for too much but would be something I would love to taste), but I did spy nuts in some bites. Nuts and graham may not be the best combination for me, but I waived this slight transgression since the green tea cheesecake is something I’ve been waiting for a long time. Finally!

On the side, Starbucks also has that Purple Yam Cake (ube) with layers of Macapuno and Adzuki Beans. It’s 100% purple (check) but with ube (no way), macapuno (what is this, halo halo?) and adzuki (stains, stains, stains) that make up the cake (what it’s not cheesecake?) I’ll pass.

Kekkou desu! (No thanks!)

Off with her red!

Time to face the real velvet in the world of cakes and cupcakes, and apologies for those guessing from the ROYGBIV roster. Did you say red? Oh bloody hell, you need help. It’s Black Velvet. Do remember that.

The thing about Red Velvet is that, it’s become the cliché cake that everyone just loves. This bloody color has gotten girls to swoon over reddish-tinged pastries and to hoard cupcakes for anyone’s birthday, anniversary or just plain PMS. It’s maddening what red velvet has done to society, and I shudder at the thought at what might happen if it runs out—on V-Day, of all days. Ah yes, oh no indeed.

Red velvet. If I tell you that it is just food coloring, I’d suppose you’d call me a pesky little liar. Seriously though, if you’re old enough to read this, it should come to your knowledge that it’s just red food coloring. That red velvet is really just chocolate cake that’s been tinted with red dye.

So let’s try to be more realistic. Brown Velvet? Not if you want the cowboys filing in the hordes, or folks who have a taste for leather. Either way, we don’t want horses to be the new motorcycles.

Black Beauty, guaranteed not to leave fake lipstick stains

Black Velvet. Now that’s more like it. Who’d have thought that prim and proper Mary Grace Café would come up with this decadent little bugger of a cake? No reds or pinks, just plain black and white. Classic, simple yet sinfully alluring. With the delightful cream cheese frosting and little swirls of chocolate, Black Velvet brings that artificially red alien into its real gracious form. Chocolate, dark yet fluffy, mildly sweet yet creamy. This contrasting collaboration radiates in its simplicity, and anyone who gets a sample of the Black Velvet by Mary Grace Café would certainly yell, “Off with her red!”

Meet Joe Black. Black Heart Inertia. Black Hawk Down. Now, Black Velvet.

This is why I love black.