The dessert was supposed to be a masterpiece. I heard it before I saw it, at other tables in the small, intimate dining room. A loud whoosh, like the noise produced by a vacuum cleaner, followed by squeals of delight and the clapping of hands. Finally, I saw the dessert up close when the pastry chef and server set a bowl down on the table next to mine and proceeded to use a large yellow blowtorch — far larger than the type many people keep in... More >>>