Atmosphere: This all-dessert spot is tucked into a truffle-sized storefront in the Pennsport neighborhood, and like its notable neighbors Cochon and Little Fish, the space is all understated quaintness and cute-as-a-button details. But it’s not contrived; there are no Hollywood-set-designer touches or Chocolat-inspired faux-rustic details to detract from Golosa’s mostly minimalist appeal. In fact, this sweet spot for sweet teeth deals most successfully in decorative anachronism: Shimmery teal-toned drapes, chocolate bars lined up against the side wall, cakes with math-class-perfect wedges excised from their sides on display behind glass, multicolor truffles (Golosa calls them ‘pralines’) lined up, soldier like, on shelves inside rectangular glass towers, and vaguely Euro-lounge-sounding tunes wafting from a JBL sound-system the color and approximate shape of Darth Vader’s—or Dick Cheney’s—helmet.
Crowd: The crowd on a recent Wednesday night included a table of high-jeans-wearing professor-types gleefully sipping their molten chocolates and two tables of daters making googly-eyes at each other. It was as low-key and contented a crowd as you’d expect from a neighborhood that seems to specialize in unpretentious, willfully un-sceney dining (or, to verbify the raison d’etre of Golosa, desserting).
Service: The service here is proud and personalized enough that you’re likely to feel as if you’re visiting the apartment of a particularly chocolate-obsessed friend. And, essentially, you are: The owner will also likely be your waiter, and as he procures and imports all the chocolates himself, the pride he takes in what he brings to your table is evident. Plus, who could possibly be cranky working with chocolate all day?
What to Get: Chocolate calda al peperoncino, a mug of molten 56 percent-cocoa chocolate spiked with a dash of chili pepper, is the perfect wintertime counterpart to Capogiro’s Aztec chocolate gelato, and a fabulous way to stave off the withdrawal from that million-dollar cup of frozen goodness that inevitably sets in as we approach the igloo-days of winter. And the four-item praline sampler is a fabulous way to taste a range of chocolates without breaking the bank. The heart-shaped passion fruit one was a standout for its bright acidity, as was the marzipan for its surprisingly light texture, which was a nice departure from the glue-like consistency almond paste typically suffers from. And the coffee and tea list approach what can only be called epic proportions.
What Not to Get: The rooibos lover, a dense, herbal tea-infused cake with both milk chocolate and raspberry butter cream, was understated and helped along with a fabulous chocolate sauce that possessed all the berry-toned nuances that Hershey’s and Fox’s don’t (of course, they’re not really chocolate). But the cake itself was a bit on the dry side. Once this is remedied, though, it’ll be worth ordering.
Verdict: Golosa reminds me of the ideal date: sexy but not overbearing, friendly and unpretentious, and not too expensive. Between here and Cochon, I fully expect to gain five or so pounds this winter. Thanks, Pennsport. Thanks a lot.
