The joy of Buckhurst Hill, Essex

August 5th, 2011

I’ve been informed that Buckhurst Hill is a top place for getting a vajazzle. That’s the technical term for having your vagina decorated with crystals, post-waxing. The male version is called a pejazzle: presumably it’s worn dipped, or in moments of excitement, full beam.

I wasn’t there for the body art. I was simply following a signal on my cake radar after catching up with a friend in South Woodford. (She who eats chocolate but won’t touch chocolate cake.)

So, feeling courageously unkempt, I hit Queen’s Road and passed 8 or 9 hair and beauty salons in under a mile, and a flashy grooming parlour for pets.

Moving quickly on I came across Pat-a-Cake. No tables or chairs and not much left in the way of wares either. Cupcakes. again. Red velvet. again.

An Italian deli called MamaLina looked more promising. Wading through a children’s party to reach the counter, I spotted a beautiful example of torta paradiso.

While the owner served me I learnt that she and the deli are named after her Aunt Adelina. and, although Adelina senior didn’t have any bambinos of her own, the children in their Italian village called her Mama Lina because she baked and cooked so much.

You know when you stroke a hamster or a kitten and they’re so soft that you’re not sure if you’re touching them? Well, this piece of paradise is a bit like that: so fine and airy that it may not be there.

It’s the  omission of any sort of fat and the use of  egg whites that does it, the trick is to avoid dryness. No trouble with that here.

It quietly murmers vanilla.

Fresh cream in the middle.

Verdict: Only one thing for it, buy another piece.

The joy of Buckhurst Hill, Essex

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