Reviews

An unacceptable deviation from the norm for the purposes of meeting a deadline

I've reviewed cakes on and off now for almost three years. Three years professionally, anyway, if one can call filling the page of a student magazine for free a "professional" pursuit. In that time, there have been some wonderful cakes; others, some truly atrocious. But good or bad, cake it has always been.

Cake, while a subject whose bounds are surprisingly elastic, is still a limited subject. There's only so many varieties to test out; so many things that can be said. And even though it is truly the greatest food known to man or beast, and even woman, sometimes you just want something a little different.

I realise that's a travesty. How could someone elect to have something else when cake is available? Particularly, how could one elect to have something other than cake when cake is their livelihood? I'm ashamed to say that I buckled this past week. When going to find a cake to review, I instead selected... brioche.

Brioche? Brioche!? What on earth is a brioche, anyway? It's kind of bready, kind of sweet, but beyond that the definition is a little vague. They've been used for burger buns, I know; but you also get them stuffed full of custard and fruity crap, and as any vaguely rational person would say, a custard burger is just not something you want to be trying out at 3am after a night out.

And yet, when it came to browsing Fidel's Café in Wellington last week, the hippy fodder that was the gluten-free almond and blueberry cake just didn't appeal. Maybe it was because it was 9am and generally people don't advise eating cake at that hour, but such people clearly miss out on the full appeal of cake. Nonetheless, for some reason, I just didn't... feel like it. Which might be worrying, but fortunately, there was something new to try.

Custard Brioche

Cake Classes: not actually cake at all
Cost: $5.00
Available from: Fidel's, Wellington

Construction, Texture, and Structural Integrity

Well, this is certainly all a bit alien, I must say. It should be first noted that brioche is not cake – not in the slightest. The form was vaguely terrifying on the first encounter; rather than a nice, controlled wedge, this was a giant puff akin to a mushroom. A muffin I could handle; but this bulbous creature had a vague air of alien menace.

A small top-knot sat atop it all, encrusted with grains of sugar, and the natural tendency of the diner was to pull this off and eat it first. Thusly done, it somehow all looked less impressive, suggesting the centre of its power was indeed this. If one ever needs to defeat a brioche in battle, perhaps as a boss in a video game, you now know that it will be rendered useless once you take this out.

The texture of the brioche shell was rather chewy, and a bit unpleasantly dry; not at all the light and fluffy pastry one might have expected. Once one breached its outer wall, inside lurked a dungeon of custard, peach, and berry. This lent it a bit of moisture, but not enough to overcome the unfortunate dry texture. An extreme disappointment.

Taste

The taste was largely overshadowed by the texture, but it still earnt it no further points. Apart from the granulated sugar encrusting the top, the brioche was rather tasteless; neither pleasantly sweet nor satisfyingly savoury. The custard inside was adequate, and it worked well with the fruit accompaniment, but it couldn't come even close to rescuing the whole thing.

Extras

It may be that it's because we got it takeaway, but the brioche came with no real extras, and we suspect it would not have been any different had it been purchased dine-in. Packaging consisted of a paper plate inside a paper bag, which at least gave the unwieldy brioche some necessary stability. Given its unique shape, perhaps a flag or something poked in the top would have been a nice touch, suggesting an alien planet of some sort.

Concluding Thoughts

What we have managed to successfully establish is that brioche cannot touch cake in the quality stakes, and I've learned that it's not always a good idea to deviate from the tried and true. The brioche sang a siren's song which forced me to cheat on my beloved cake, but as with most affairs, it ended up being an empty relationship which ultimately came back to make my life a misery (in this case, because there was very little to say about it. However... I was also lucky enough to meet:

Snickers Thickshake

This is quite possibly the greatest beverage ever. Sure, it doesn't have alcohol in it, but once you've had one you'll gladly pay for a flight to Wellington just to try another one. It doesn't actually taste like a Snickers bar – instead, it's probably just full of peanut butter – but it is truly wonderful. I cannot recommend it highly enough. Had it not been there, I might had to have written off Wellington entirely as a result of the brioche. I know they'll be grateful for my last minute endorsement.