If I lived in Australia, I'd want to eat sticky date pudding all the time. Alas, I don't, so I've only eaten it twice in my deprived life, the second time at The Sunburnt Cow in Alphabet City. The uber-moist, warm cake morsel acted as a sponge (and had a spongy texture) for the caramel sauce topping and doesn't taste of dates as much as the intense caramel sauce that soaks into every crevice. Which is perfectly fine with me. I thought the sweetness level was just right—"just right" to my taste buds being a smidge below "diabetes-inducing"—but if your sweet tooth is more normal than mine, the accompanying whipped cream helps to cut through the sweetness.
The Sunburnt Cow
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