[Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi]
It is morally appalling.
The carrot cake at The Big Chill Cakery bakery in Delhi’s Khan Market has to be the most politically incorrect dish in this city of vast disparities.
It is too rich. The creamy layer is as thick as the smog that hangs over this miserable metropolis. The very sight looks disgusting.
And it is so delicious.
A single slice of this cake is as filling as the half kilogram of Gulab Jamuns at Nathu Sweets—it is that gigantic. Even if you don’t count the cream (which is impossible of course), this is still Titanic. The crumbly part by itself is worth a night-long debauchery. The cream, however, is like a narcotic. It launches you into the outer space (is there hashish in it!).
The bakery has a small seating area beside a glass window and the smart slim people walking outside on the fashionable lane could easily figure out the shameful stuff on your plate. What a spectacle to be caught making love to this mountain of sweet sleaze.
The most appropriate way to consume the cake is to discreetly take it home. Once alone in the bedroom, turn off the mobile phone, take off all your clothes and then allow the cake to attack you. The experience will be dirty, messy and full of pleasure.