In Praise Of
Instead of a big spoon and perhaps a fork if we’re being all dainty, it seems that it’s the knives that are always out for puddings these days. When the Health Secretary, Jeremy Hunt, (a man whose name is surely rhyming slang for something or other) started on about wanting to name and shame restaurants for serving large helpings of sugary sweets, Balans was all over it like dark chocolate fudge sauce on a plate of warm doughnuts. ‘Bring it ON’, we said, ‘make us number one on that list, Jezza.’ He clearly didn’t realise that for Balans Soho Society this would have been a mark of distinction, truly a badge of honour. For a start, we love a blacklist and are constantly looking for opportunities to find ourselves on one, but really, as people for whom the mantra ‘more is most definitively more’ is a way of life, there is nothing we hold in higher esteem than a rich, extravagant, proper pudding.
Don’t come to us for miniature selections of flavoured foams with a few whisps of caramelised puffed rice or some deconstructed meek milky mousse with a daub of dill and cucumber. No. Thank. You. Puddings are meant to be over-indulgent. Puddings are meant to be sinful, sugary and overflowing with calories.
Surely that’s the whole point of going out to eat at a restaurant. It’s an excuse to treat yourself. No one really needs a pudding, but to finish a meal without one? To forgo the pleasures of pushing back the pudding plate with a full tummy and eyes as glazed as a Lemon Drizzle? Insanity. Life is sweet, don’t ever let your senses dessert you…