When I get off of work, your girl gets a little hungry so I stop at this little restaurant on the way home. The other day, I was looking for something sweet. I grabbed the menu and turned to the dessert page -- I had been to the place a million times before but never had dessert. So I'm scanning the dessert page, looking to satisfy my sweet tooth and then I get to the option listed third from the bottom
See for yourself.
No, your eyes have not deceived you. You can have "Negro" for dessert and you bet your candy ass that's exactly what I ordered. I wasn't trying to eat there so I got my Negro to go. Not knowing what exactly it would taste like or what it was made of, I unwrapped my dessert with a little bit of excitement.
When I opened that jern, what seemed to be a chocolate pudding-esque delight lay before me. Then I dipped my spoon into it and there were like little round cake balls inside of the pudding.
After a few spoon fulls of Negro pudding, my stomach started to ache from all the chocolate and with every additional spoon full it got nastier and nastier. I could go on no longer ... I didn't want a repeat episode of The Sultan's Revenge.
Or, you know, maybe it was my inner black moral compass rejecting the dessert.
I'm officially a cannibal.
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