Cheesecake is the best. That's my thesis and body and conclusion. Cause that's all there is to say. That's all that should be said. At least that's what I thought until today.
Everytime I take a bite into any cheesecake I leverage my expectations tenfold. I have such high hopes for the pleasure I will receive when the cream cheese, the crust, cream topping hits my taste buds. But sometimes my expectations aren't justified. Sometimes cheesecake is like a tech stock of the 90's. And this particular cheesecake that I ate today was the pets.com. I kept artificially increasing the value in my head until I actually tried the cake and completely burst my bubble.
Ya see, because cheesecake such potential for success in my mind, my expectations are naturally elevated, and are therefore much more prone to a crash.
So I got this cheesecake from this place in Philly that dubs itself "Best Cheesecake in Philly." It was the worst cheesecake I've had anywhere near Philly. I was so frustrated because I had expected the greatness that's usually a tag-team with cheesecake. The denseness. The richness. The feeling of ultimate indulgence. The knowledge that you are committing sin, and the decision to resign yourself to gluttony.
Bananas Foster, Peanut Butter, and Pumpkin Cheesecake