Indeed, the giant gold bird cages surrounding cafe tables, the bright mural in the back room and the kid-sized door within the regular bathroom door (opened with a big gold key) are very whimsical-child friendly. Wealthy, whimsical-child friendly ($17 salads!?!).
As not-at-all-wealthy-but-kind-of-whimsical-adults, we decided to forge ahead—it was really the desserts we were after...
Had we a few more stomachs and a lot more money, we'd have gone right for the aptly named Sweetiepig, a giant glass bowl filled with five kinds of ice cream, cake, berries, bananas, chocolate sauce, sprinkles, and whipped cream.
Alas, we ended up going with a trio of Micro Cakes and a Mint Chocolate Hot Fudge Sundae...
The sundae was pretty good.
The cakes, frosted and flavored chocolate, lemon, and orange, were...ok.
When I asked the waiter if they were frosted in buttercream, he gave me a confused look and said, "yes, there is butter." Each was floating on a small pool of correspondingly flavoured syrup which soaked the little layers in an overwhelming way. Which fits, I suppose, as the entire place is overwhelming—mirrors everywhere, batty old woman coming in and out (sometimes for no reason at all), four different waiters to our one little table, and an unexpected mix of music, including Duran Duran, playing overhead.
Will we go back? Probably not—too expensive for what you get.
That said, if you have, or can pretend to be, a wealthy seven-year-old, then by all means, it's worth a visit. If I was a kid, I'd want to live there—who cares what the cakes taste like, look how damn cute they are.
