So a while back I took J to
Cafe Fleuri, aka the Chocolate bar, for her birthday. Which, all in all, wasn't as easy as it should have been. First off, they book up fast and a week wasn't enough time to get a reservation. Second of all, its in the
Langham in downtown Boston, meaning its in public transportation purgatory. Though, to be fair, it really wasn't all that hard to get to.
J had heard about the place and was really excited. I had my reservations. Namely, I don't think much of buffets. To me they are quintessentially quantity-over-quality: nothing is really great tasting, this look nice but just can't deliver flavor in the way that they might if they reduced from hundreds of items to simply dozens. Whatever. I'm picky and I'm not ashamed.
They describe the meal as an "all-you-can-enjoy buffet, which comprises a delicious assortment of more than 125 chocolate desserts, including chocolate mousses, specialty cakes, made-to-order chocolate crêpes, homemade ice cream, fresh baked cookies, milk chocolate passion fruit tarts, miniature s'more cups, cotton candy, delicate truffles, our signature chocolate break pudding and more." Well. Dessert is usually the best part of any meal, so it does have that going for it. But, my macro level focus *ahem* skipping of details, glazed over the indication that all that is served is dessert. Which for J was more than fine, but after all that chocolate, sugar and sweets I was dying for something savory. A couple of eggs, maybe some sausage. Not to be found.
While I was hardly starting, I was in no way full either. There really is a finite amount of desserts that I can eat on an empty stomach. And this was far too much. I can't say that I had ever been so done with chocolate until that moment. I'm reminded of the old trick to get a kid to stop smoking by forcing them to smoke a whole bunch and gross them out. That was kind of the effect on me. Just too much. There were other food options, like a rather tasty sounding lamb burger, but given I had already paid for my own meal and J's I didn't feel like shelling out another $20 just get a change up.
In the end, I think J was very happy with the meal: chocolate to one's own content. I felt that much of it filled my prediction. Most of it was good, but not great. Some was even boring and not worthy of finishing. I felt a bit guilty as I went back for my third or fourth plate. Kind of like eating bland birthday cake, I couldn't help wonder if it was worth the calories.
The themes and images were often well done with inventive plaiting and amusing plays on classics: see the "s'more in a spoon" in the first image. But it couldn't quite get beyond the fact that to meet the needs of such volume corners are cut. Plus, after all that type II inducement my tongue felt like it had been sandblasted. I shudder to think of my blood sugar level after that. The flavors became numbed in the blur of similarity.
For some, this would be an absolute ideal. Clearly, this is the place to bring a small group of tween girls. A birthday party of 5 showed up with someone's mom. You would have thought there were free Jonas Brother backstage passes hidden in the food the way these girl shoved their way through the throng of tourists. Beware the chocolate cravings of a gang of pre-teens. They have no remorse.
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