Sweets for the sweet. The Cupcake and Dessert Tour

Really not sure how I’m going to fare selling this week’s excursion to you, Jarrod. I mean, how does one pitch a gourmet Cupcake and Dessert Walking Tour to a man who once forgot to organise a birthday cake for his wife, but ever the problem solver, stacked a dozen jam donuts one on top of the other, shoved in some candles and called it a Jam Donut Croquembouche? (I confess I sniggered at the time and yet, a tiny part of me went “oooooh, if I ever got married that would actually be what I’d want for my wedding cake….”)

Particularly admire your attention to detail with plating up.

I came across this tour on line and as a person who flicks to the back of any menu first–chooses her dessert, then works backward from there to choose a main, it appealed immediately. It promises three hours of sugary goodness, hitting six dessert venues with a decadent sample at each spot *wipes drool off iPad* Six dessert portions. Six. I’m guessing that if you get lost or separated from the group, you can retrace your steps by following the macabre Hansel and Gretel style trail of decayed teeth which have fallen right out of your gums as you wander along. The tour costs $49 per person and all the details can be found at foodi.com.au

I put out the call for a blog-accomplice. Who will throw themselves on the proverbial grenade and accompany me to sample Melbourne’s best sweets? One of my good friends from comedy, Nadine bravely puts up her hand #trooper #heroes-journey. We arrive at the designated meeting point, Flinders St Station steps at 10:30am sharp. Let the blood sugar roller-coaster begin.

Being Melbourne born and bred, my ego/inner snob likes to think I’m across everything we have to offer on the food and beverage front, but I also figure you don’t know what you don’t know and as it turns out, there is plenty I don’t know.

First stop on the tour is Little Cupcakes in Degraves Street, which I’ve been to once before. We’re informed we get to choose a cupcake each to consume and look, I’m pretty sure that babies have been chosen for adoption with less lip chewing and umming and ahhing than I exhibit over this decision. But to be fair, look at the options.

Let them eat cake indeed

Can I sign a waiver, leave the tour and just camp here?

One’s cake selection simply CANNOT be rushed. I settle on a Golden Gaytime–

Cupcake survived exactly another 45 seconds after this photo was taken

and Nadine has Peanut Butter Cookie. We both rave about our cakes and somewhat miraculously, nobody in the group describes their cake as ‘moist.’ (I thought a conversation about hating the word moist was a given where cake is concerned?) We sample a bit of each other’s, compliment it and quietly nurse the knowledge that our own choice was the best.

Nadine and her runner up in the best cupcake stakes

Next stop is at a chocolatiers where we get to sit and rest for a bit after walking a gruelling half a block.

My happy place.

We’re each treated to one of their Kalamansi Lime chocolates (divine) and one of their signature hot chocolates made with 6 parts pure chocolate, one part cream. OMFGOMFGOMFG. THE PLEASURE CENTRES IN MY BRAIN.

Pure decadence in a cup.

It’s so insanely good that with one sip, I feel myself morph into a hot chocolate diva. Everything else is henceforth subpar. Hand me a concoction made of chocolate syrup and hot milk at your peril, I’ll probably call it ‘swill’ and throw it back in your face (once it’s cooled to tepid of course, I’m not a complete savage…)

After chocolate we move onto waffles which are lovely. They are. Lovely! But I’m extremely nervous the entire time I am eating and can’t truly enjoy my waffle-time. Why? Thank you for asking. This is….it’s not easy for me to talk about. But I have previously had a NDWE. A Near Death Waffle Experience (I’m sensing some sympathetic nods from readers. Haven’t we all?) I breathed, yes, I merely breathed, whilst chewing a waffle and the icing sugar on top of said waffle hit the back of my throat triggering a coughing/gagging fit that was terrifying and just downright undignified. Now I can’t eat waffles without having flashbacks to fellow cafe goers gaping at me in abject disgust as I hack and splutter and wheeze. I don’t even attempt any photos at the waffle stop because the dual task of breathing and eating these f&$%ers is clearly as much as I’m equipped to manage.

Maccaron time next and we hit up a little store in Hardware Lane where goddamnit, we have to make YET ANOTHER decision about what flavour we want. It’s like I haven’t been at work all week having to make life and death decisions as it is! Sigh. I peruse the options, there are the usual suspects (raspberry, coffee, strawberry, pistachio….) and some fancier options like *oooh la-di-dah voice* Pear with Caramel and Scone with Jam and Cream.

Hold the bloody phone. A Scone with Jam and Cream flavoured MACCARON? Come on, maccarons. You’re just getting greedy and going for total dessert market domination. You’ve got plenty of flavour options. Let’s just leave the scones be. You don’t need to go nudging onto their turf. What next? I mean really. Where does it all end? Roast beef with Yorkshire pud, paired with a gutsy shiraz maccarons?

I settle on Coconut and Lychee and Nadine goes for an Earl Grey Tea with Chocolate one. They’re truly delicious. I get a couple of take aways to save for later.

Hyperglycaemic Grins

And by later I mean 20mins after the tour finishes.

Coconut and lychee goodness

Ok so we’ve done cupcakes, chocolates, hot chocolates, deadly waffles and maccarons, next stop the famous Jam Donuts (or croquembouche components, as you might know them) at the Vic Markets! I’m all too familiar with these bad boys, they have been many a Saturday morning breakfast after market shopping.

Chewy, jammy, sugary divinity

We have just enough time for a selfie before we devour them making rapturous noises not dissimilar to zombies consuming flesh in The Walking Dead. They are scrumptious.

And what better way to wind up proceedings than our last stop where we are treated to a spicy masala chai and cinnamon biscuit?

Chai chai chai chai chai chai chai chai….

Contented sigh…… I’m transported back to being on trains in India and hearing one of my favourite sounds: the chai wallah ambling the length of the train crying “chai chai chai chai chai chai chai” (At the risk of sounding utterly, comprehensively, unbearably obnoxious, once you’ve had proper masala chai, you’ll find that syrup or powdered chai latte mix that most cafes have just undrinkable)

Oh. I just re-read that last sentence and I hate myself for sounding like such a pretentious twat. But it’s true. Sometimes you can be both twatty AND correct…

So in short we had a genuinely lovely morning, hitting up some familiar spots and discovering some new places that are destined to become firm favourites. Granted, there was no Jam Donut Croquembouche but nonetheless, the Cupcake and Dessert Walking Tour, Jarrod, would you go there?