In Vienna we walked by the Sacher Hotel (slash-cafe, slash-restaurant) and popping in for a little cake sit down seemed like the right thing to do. I have a tiny history with the famous Sacher Torte… once Dad let me have it for breakfast. Yep, that’s the whole story. But at the time cake for breakfast seemed like a dream come true. “At the time”… ok, no, cake for breakfast still is my dream. Anyway. Sacher torte-ing. Lovely little sun porch thing, nice little baby cappuccinos, and cake. Lurvely… but… Can I make a tiny confession? The famed Sacher Torte… isn’t very good. Oh, it feels good to let the truth out. Ok, it’s neat because… um, it’s somehow famous. But I think the cake bit is a little dry, the ganache is a little thick, and the jam layer tastes like Fig Newton filling. It’s not bad cake, I just don’t see what all the fuss is all about.

I’ll take Pillsbury funfetti cupcakes over the S-Torte any day. (I don’t think I’m supposed to say that… ruining the foodie facade.)

But… it is a pretty little cake!



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