Chocolate Angel Too
1109 Preston Road, Dallas
Sometimes you just need cake.
I'd been de-commissioned for almost a week, moping around the house with a double ear infection, cursing the day I was born alternately with the day I grew ears, and sometimes cursing the world in general for being so lousy and, in my condition, remote. Quite a week. One morning, however, the clouds parted (literally and figuratively), and while I still wasn't quite at a hundred percent, I did feel up to a little exploration.
A post on the newest location of Chocolate Angel over on The Dallas Cookbook blog piqued my curiosity, and at the moment one neuron fired on another, sending its electronic signal for "chocolate" along one of my brainwaves, I knew that this was just the outing for the day. Wrapping a wool scarf around my neck (sunshine or not, I wasn't about to risk a step backward on the path to wellness), I skipped out the door and up to Preston and Forest, dreaming of a freshly-baked cure. I felt better already.
Chocolate Angel Too Cafe and Bakery is located in the same lineup as Chic From Barcelona and The Mercury, across the parking lot from Snappy Salads. Its sun-drenched (on this day, at least) storefront features a minimalist decor - dark wood furniture is neatly arranged in two dining areas, with a drink station on one side offering self-serve soft beverages. Orders are placed at the counter, where you can feast your eyes on all manner of goodies on display.
Here's where I should mention the most annoying aspect of having two hopelessly clogged ears: Chewing anything, especially anything challenging to the teeth, sounded like feeding time at the hippopotamus pool inside the stuffy echo-chamber of my head. Therefore, when I laid my eyes on a tall, frosted Red Velvet number under the glass dome alongside the register, it called to me in more ways than one.
"Pick me," cooed that cake, looking all sweet and homemade and comforting. "I'm rich and creamy - see how the light catches my moist, delicate crumbs?"
Sure, being sick afforded me the perfect excuse to skip main dish in favor of dessert, but the added bonus was avoiding the fingers-on-chalkboard effect of trying to chew a Chicken Salad Sandwich with dried cranberries and toasted pecans in my condition. Sold. A nice man behind the counter carved me a generous (shall we say entree-sized?) slice of the aforementioned cake, and I helped myself to a steaming cup of coffee to sip alongside.
Now, those who know me well know that I don't mess around when it comes to desserts. I'd rather not have it than have it less than perfect. Trust me, then, when I say that this cake was delicious. It defined the term moist, with two tall, dense layers that all but dripped with deep red, Southern sweetness. Those layers turned darker at their bases and edges, where excess moisture had created subtle, fudge-like layers-within-the-layers that almost rendered frosting obsolete. But that smooth cream cheese concoction, spread with a fair and even hand, definitely managed to hold its butter-rich own.
I devoured most of my mountain of cake, stopping only to sigh with pleasure or drink from my mug, while watching Chocolate Angel fill with ladies who seemed very interested in salads and soup. Perhaps I'll go back and try those sometime. For now, I'll say that my experience with the Red Velvet Cake was (forgive me) uplifting, and that the Chocolate Fudge Coca-Cola Cake looked pretty damned good, too. Before re-wrapping my scarf and heading back out into the day, I savored a final forkful of my decadent lunch and silently apologized to whoever was listening for even once considering the world a lousy place.