I can learn more about a man at dessert than any other time.
When it comes down to it, isn’t dessert the reason for a date? Witty conversation and sex appeal aside, it’s dessert that seals the deal. Lest I sound shallow, I can authenticate the efficacy of this dessert-litmus test. I can predict — with surprising accuracy — how long the relationship will last based on his dessert order. I have never lasted more than two dates with a guy who orders puff pastry. He’s flaky, just like the crust. In my experience, this guy doesn’t have much of a backbone. We won’t mesh. I value reliability and a man who follows through.
I’m usually right about the man who orders crème brulee. He has fantastic taste and a wry sense of humor. This guy is tempting to keep around. He’ll show up with roses and a bottle of Bordeaux. He might own a smooth ride. But in the end, he can’t be trusted.
Surely there’s nothing wrong with an apple pie man? Don’t be fooled. He seems unassuming and down-to-earth. But if he’s got a world of exotic choices and he goes with pie, he has a case of the Mama’s Boy.
Perhaps I can look past all these orders. But the dealbreaker? A man who orders the cheese plate. Are you kidding me? You’re going to order CHEESE for DESSERT? I’m very suspicious of a man who doesn’t have a sweet tooth. Who’s going to watch late-night TV and split a pint of ice cream with me? You mean we aren’t going to stroll the city looking for the most drool-worthy bakery? Holy crap, what are we going to do together?
It’s the man who orders some version of raspberry/fudge cake who’s after my heart. He tends toward the traditional, the adventurous, and (if he loves whipped cream) the sensual.
You might consider me batty and presumptuous. Listen: Order aside, you can tell a lot about a man based on how he eats his dessert. Does he gobble or savor? Does he share or snatch the last bite? Is he expressive or silent? Forget analyzing how he dances; it’s how he devours dessert that unlocks his bedroom behavior.
I’ve always relied on my dessert-litmus test, but recently I’ve entered uncharted waters.
The man I’m currently seeing, on our first date, ordered cheesecake. Uh oh, I thought. Is he an uptight weenie? Actually, what I was really thinking: Bastard can order a 900-calorie dessert and still have a body like that? Not fair!
Then, on our second date, he took me on a picnic and brought Oreos, a decidedly unpretentious, even lowbrow, dessert. They were magnificent.
All of a sudden, my system is in question. Dessert doesn’t reveal the man. In this case—shock! —I’m allowing the man to reveal the man. This guy will keep me guessing, and I like it. Still, I can’t lie: I’m crossing my fingers that he doesn’t order the cheese plate!