Buttercake N Cream

You already know by now, I’m sure, that I like desserts. However, it does gets me into trouble as I constantly (read: all the time) think about them and the craving just won’t go away. At least not until I satisfied the sweet tooth. So much so that I eat desserts first, and I can even skipped the main course for the sweet stuff.

Anyway, our initial plan was to have desserts for lunch at Buttercake n Cream – only desserts and nothing else. But we just couldn’t resist the kurobuta pork that was waving at us, I mean who can?

Buttercake n Cream was formerly known as Peaberry & Pretzel (selling German food), but the owners have since changed the concept to an ice cream parlour and dessert place. They are famous for their sundaes, and when I heard that they are serving sundaes, the first thing that came to my mind was MacDonald’s hot chocolate fudge. But trust me, their sundaes are really much better than that; we were considering between their berry berry good and Apple Pie Ala Mode ($7) since we didn’t want chocolate or banana in their other options, and we had the latter.

On paper, it was two scoops of vanilla ice cream, with apple pie fillings and almond crumble. Spotting the speckles of vanilla beans was enough to make my heart flutter, and surprisingly, the manner in which they deconstructed the apple pie ice cream (as we like to call it) turns out to be good. I like how the almond crumble provided the crunch while the apple pie filling added an tangy touch to the cold vanilla ice cream.

Tiramisu. Say it with me: Ti-ra-mi-su!

Desserts too, are special. Why end off your meal with a cup of espresso or a shot of alcohol when you can have soaked sponge fingers into both of them, with the mascarpone special that will set tongues wagging and licking at the whipping combination of coffee-liquor-mascarpone. And there’s the most wonderful cocoa powder sprinkled on top of the fluffy mixture which makes you go: oh-my-it-is-so-good!

As our spoon cuts into the Tiramisu ($5.50), the top cocoa powder layer gave way and filled our spoon. Eaten separately, the soaked finger layer tasted like wet biscuit with espresso, and the masarpone like any other ordinary cream, but combine both together, the result is totally different. The different layers seem to fuse perfectly, and the effect is a yummy sensation.

Maybe it’s just me, but honestly, all tiramisu taste good to me; how bad can a tiramisu be? Okay, you are thinking about the really lousy one; what I meant was between the pretty decent, and the very good one. This means us to the question: is a good tiramisu one that has a) strong liqueur taste b) no liqueur or c) a good mixture of both espresso and liqueur? Some people swear by the strong liqueur taste lingering in the tiramisu, while the original tiramisu actually do not have any alcohol as they were meant for children. There’s no such thing as a best tiramisu, everybody have a different preference to the espresso-alcohol proportion.

I feel silly discussing this with you, but the-best-tiramisu is a topic that foodies have debated for centuries. There’s no doubt about it, I like all tiramisu.

Here’s another reason for you to explore Sunset way, TGIF!

Long story short, if you like my review please do come by ladyironchef . . . for the delicious in you