Okay literary purists. Technically, this is NOT an ode — it’s a little piece of false advertising up there. But since I’ll be singing praises to a certain pastry, I think the title is a little appropriate.
Anyway, I’ve never had a sweet tooth (Bacolod Spice, with all his vitriol, is really VERY sweet – but that doesn’t count, does it?).
And as a Negrosanon, that makes me somewhat of an aberration, for the province is after all a veritable killing field for diabetics.
However, like all Negrosanons, I do have a love affair with the Napoleones — not to be mistaken for the French Napoleon pastry, and definitely not to be confused with Emperor of the French, Napoleon Bonaparte (who was a fruit, not a pastry, allegedly).
My sister, though, is the one with a sweet tooth. Did I say tooth? Why, she has sweet TEETH, and she was the one who first introduced me to the napoleones.
What is a napoleones?
It is a flaky pastry with custard filling and that generous amount of sugar glaze on top.
I hate flaky pastries – they do have the tendency to fall apart at the smallest of nibbles and I usually end up with crumbs on my shirt, not a pretty sight especially when you are trying to impress that cute boy at the counter who might think you are a Neanderthal for not knowing how to eat your dessert properly. I hate sugar glazes – the cloyingly sweet flavor of the confectioners’ sugar somehow tickles my murderous gene and makes me reach for a weapon (preferably a blow torch) and something to practice it on (preferably a cat).
So I hate flaky pastries. And I hate sugar glazes. But I love napoleones.
Trust me, for somebody who loves chocolates but hates chocolate cakes, that is normal.
There is just something about the flaky pastry-sugar glaze-custard filling combo that makes the napoleones a must-have dessert, you know, the kind that I wouldn’t mind buying by the box.
The combination is just perfect. The custard filling itself is (most of the time) unsweetened so the sugar glaze in a counter-acts and even complements the filling’s general blandness. The texture of the flaky pastry provides a beautiful balance against the silky feel of the custard filling (I realized I just said a lot of f-words there. Not my intent.)
Hmm… Come to think of it, the three napoleones sitting beside me while I was typing this had gone missing. And I’m alone. And I don’t believe in tamawos and kama-kamas.
Okay, I just ate three BIG napoleones while I was writing about the dessert. Nifty, eh?
So excuse moi… Sugar rush kicking in.
Now, where’s my blow torch?