Rosemary Parkinson, Contributor
Left: Chocolate Mousse Cake. Right: Passion Fruit Pie, from Culloden Café.
HISTORICALLY, DESSERTS came about as more and more fruit and grains were discovered on our planet by humans. For instance, in Greece, around 5,500 BC, honey and sugar cane were to be found. Four thousand BC brought about citrus, watermelon and other fruits in Egypt. Grapes were a favourite dessert with the Romans (we have all seen those delicious movies of bejewelled toga-clad kings and queens on chaise lounges; a slave holding a shiny bunch of dark, fat grapes just high enough for the pickings - the contact of mouth and grape causing eyes to close in sensuous ecstasy at the sheer joy of it all).
Chocolate, the well-known aphrodisiac (remember Valentine's) evolved into a wicked pastime in Mesopotamia in 1,500 BC with flan and cheesecake doing the rounds in Rome during the first century. Chinese moon cakes abounded in third century BC with pastries being nibbled with delight in the fifth century BC.
As time passed, writers, philosophers, poets, composers (even doctors), would use the delights of fruits in their works. D.H. Lawrence for instance likened figs to "a ripe womb." The Hindu philosophers have always looked upon the banana (for obvious reasons) as the erotic energy in their tantric traditions. Dates were supposed to increase eroticism in men leaving women in a state of desire according to Greek physicians.
THE DELICIOUS EVIL
All soft, fleshy fruits, such as peaches, papayas, mangoes, pears and apricots, have been the gist of much erotic descriptions (too risqué to mention here), with grapes known to be the favourite of the Roman ancient gods, particularly Bachus - one of the true connoisseurs of sex for pleasure. The movie classic Tom Jones, set in Elizabethan England, brings to the fore the sexual delights of a couple feeding each other with bundles of fruit - hmm ... the naughty guilt of the accompanying lovemaking. The delicious evil is fruit. I mean was it not Eve who picked the sweet apple from the tree of good and evil for a little dessert? And was it not Adam who was silly enough to be tempted as well, biting into that there apple, joining Eve in the big sin?
Desserts are art on the plate, the reinvention of the classics and a delight to savour. Desserts have certainly come into their own in a colossal way in Jamaica. Patisseries, bakeries, cafés, even the corner shop, side-of-the-road vendor or traffic-light entrepreneur have a choice of 'dessert' that a sweet tooth just cannot resist. Comfort food. Pure unadulterated, comfort food. I mean, think about it. Bad hair day? Nothing a delicious, large piece of bread pudding drizzled with golden syrup can't fix. Broken heart? Slip into bed with a smooth, dark, creamy slice of double chocolate cake. Tear-jerker movie? Fix yourself up with an Italian - a large, fruity creamy tub of La Bella Italia ice cream, of course.
GUILT PRODUCING DESSERTS
I don't believe that there is one person on earth who has not felt the pangs of lust for desserts - the elusive tribes in the deepest of forests hunt for the perfect honeycomb to satisfy their passionate pangs, and back in the metropolis, cakes or desserts are made specifically to revolve around the celebrations of births, christenings, engagements, weddings and deaths, and there is no forgetting Christmas, Easter - even the revelry of carnival has its desserts. Tea and crumpets, coffee and cake, desserts are what dreams are made of.
So with the pleasures of dreams and sinful 'desserts' in mind, I stopped to visit Jamaican Colin Hilton at Guilt Trip - a totally apt name for a place that produces some of the most excruciatingly tempting and yes, guilt producing desserts, located at Orchid Village on Barbican Road in St. Andrew.
Colin, an accountant by profession, gave up 'the desk' and those boring figures for the joy of baking and creating 'guilt trips' for different kind of figures - that is, Kingstonians from all walks of life, the only necessary requirement - a refined love of the dessert. And his desserts are certainly refined. Nothing but top-of-the-line ingredients are allowed anywhere near him.
Colin is also well-known for his lavish creations for all the special occasions mentioned above and has even been known to fly off to distant shores to satisfy the cravings of his very loyal customers. This gentleman bakes his cake and eats them too. It was this passion that led me to his hallowed doors and had me reeling with guilt from all the 'tastings' and it was also Colin's guilt (he forced me to break my never-ending diet) that allowed me to extract a recipe from his secret stash.
BE CREATIVE
Now please remember, Genoise is the cake of Europe and one's imagination can go wild with it. Use your creativity to think up of different toppings - such as poached otaheite apple, June plum, raw naseberry, mango and citrus. Once this Genoise is perfected you can go on your own wild guilt trip.
Just a wicked note as I am reminded of two other sweet things I met. First one, a rum cake by Dawn Mitchell that had my head reeling. When I opened the gift box there was a moment I could hardly breathe, for its beauty. I shyly tasted a tiny morsel and my heart flipped. Love is emotional. My second encounter had me a-twitching. A passion fruit pie at Culloden Café near Whitehouse. Whilst sitting comfortably that lazy afternoon, pot of tea to hand under the shade of a fine passion fruit vine, I quietly and joyfully enjoyed this creamy delight easing the pain of the sins I had committed in the capital city. Oh my! Who said transgressions cannot be divine.
"To her lover a beautiful woman is a delight; to a monk she's a distraction; to a mosquito, a good meal. How things seem, depend on the lens or filter through which we look at them."
- Emotional Alchemy by Tara Bennett-Coleman
GUILT TRIP
Orchid Village, 20 Barbican Road, offers slices, whole
desserts and orders. Open Monday to Sundays from 10:00 a.m. to 11:00 p.m.
Phone: 977 5130.
DAWN MITCHELL, KINGSTON
Phone: 876-970-2607
CULLODEN CAFÉ
Whitehouse, Westmoreland. Phone: 876-963-5344; 5539; 5300.
