Givin' up cake for funk

I'm a big proponent of supporting local bakeries and eating cake. Lot's of cake. In fact, one of the big perks of living in central Europe is the availability and quality of bakeries. I like to think eating cake is one of my better talents. 

But that all changed when I met my match at Vienna's Cafe Diglas.

I have no idea what it is called, but I think it's pretty popular since you are greeted by a big pan of it when enter the cafe. It's bread pudding (I think), topped with about a meter of meringue, drizzled with caramel, sitting on an ocean of vanilla custard sauce. I lasted about two bites and couldn't take it anymore. It was so sweet! But, since I didn't want to lose my cake-lovin' reputation, I had to carry on and finish it. Yea. It was a long slog, but I made it out alive.

It was a close call. About an hour later I started getting dizzy and sweaty. I thought I was a goner. 

I think the dessert broke me. The thought of anything sweet makes me nauseous and I haven't ingested any sugar for eight days. Even thinking about my beloved rice pudding makes me gag. I need a new hobby.