Finale is Just Fine - Boston

Finale’s dessert tasting for two was my Tuesday-night indulgence, and my half-off buywithme was my student-rush ticket to a concert by well-reputed composer. Sadly, like many of its predecessor symphonies, some of Finale’s movements fell short.

The concert began with an opening sonata of chocolate-covered strawberries. Pretty, sweet, light little tune that puts the audience in the mood for the chocolately genius that promises to follow. Love that the chocolate shell didn’t fall off the strawberry after I bit into it – seems like a trifling detail, but not so much when you fear the irreversible stain to your white conducting gloves.

Our adagio was the Manjari Mousse, a rich full portion, to be slowly savored. The bittersweet chocolate mousse balanced the instruments well – just the right combination of sugar and bitter cocoa. The accompaniment of blackberry cabernet sorbet was probably one of the most moving second violins of the entire performance.

The Boston Cream minuet was utterly disappointing – cake with dried-up frosting. Like the minuet, it was a soft, slow dance, one so weak and diminutive that the dancers fell asleep standing up.

The Lemon Sorbet was more of an intermission than an actual movement. Light with thank-god-no-sugar and just a hint of tang, it is the breath of fresh air that accompanies the compulsory trip to the powder room, a necessary break for an overwhelmed palate. But the intermission lasted for 10 minutes instead of the promised 15 - it didn’t come in the promised white chocolate Florentine cup. Instead, it came in what tasted like a toffee crisp shell, which proved ideal for the talkative old ladies in the next row, as it literally glues the mouth shut.

The concluding sonata, the Chocolate Crescendo was where the chords began to resonate, and the solo pianist began to show off her nimble fingers by playing trill after endless trill, which while initially impressive becomes an interminable droning oversaturation of the senses. The crescendo was literally the song that never ends, consisting of sappily melodic lime and peanut cream in white chocolate with cayenne pepper, a sickeningly sweet truffle trio crushing two gelatinous pâtes de fruit, and a smooth panna cotta that should only be fed to a suckling calf because I think this is what a bite of cow udder tastes like. Fortunately, the cacophonous trills eventually subside with a tasty white, milk and dark chocolate mousse Symphony, hazelnut cupcakes with a well-placed arpeggio of Nutella cream. Sadly, the signature Finale melting cake seemed overcooked, and rather than the smooth-as-running-lava notes that were expected to trickle off the soloist’s nimble fingers, his worsening arthritis made it more closely resemble a stagnant stream.

Five fine but fallible finales is what this tasting was all about. All in all, the sorbets probably overshadowed the other instruments in the orchestra, and though the mousse was probably worth the cost of the concert ticket, the finishing crescendo was a bit of an oversaturation. My balcony-seat buywithme was a reasonable cost, but I’d never pay the full $50 for mezzanine tickets. So next time this deal arises and you’re gunning for gluttony, use an anti-emetic for earplugs and bring two friends to split the cost, but if anyone tries to charge you full price, run the other way.