The end of a great meal is dangerous territory. By then, the chef has spent hours drawing you into a world of flavors, memories, obsessions and place, and dessert has one final job: to keep you there. I’ve eaten enough long tasting menus to know that this is often the moment when the spell breaks. Suddenly, after everything that came before, you are looking at something beautiful, technically impeccable, perhaps even delicious, and wondering what on earth it has to do with the restaurant you have just spent the evening in.
That is why I am quite demanding about dessert. Technique, balance, sweetness, acidity, temperature, texture, all of that is part of the deal. By the end of a long meal, the palate is already carrying a small lifetime of information, so precision matters enormously. What I really want, though, is character. I want to taste where I am. I want the chef’s personality to still be in the room. I want the last few bites to carry the same intelligence, the same obsessions, the same sense of place that shaped everything before them.
The desserts I remember years later are almost always the ones I could never imagine eating anywhere else. Sometimes that comes from an ingredient tied to the landscape, sometimes from a childhood memory, sometimes from an idea the chef has been quietly building all evening. At their best, they do something more interesting than simply end dinner. They make the whole meal snap into focus.
That is what connects the ten desserts in this list. They come from very different kitchens and very different parts of the world, but each of them felt completely inevitable in the restaurant where I ate it. A few changed the way I understood the meal. A few simply floored me.There is still plenty of 2026 left, and more trips ahead. For now, these are the ten I keep thinking about.And yes, for a few of them, I would get back on a plane. Literally.
Pavlova, Miyazaki Mango & Sheep’s Cream • Jordnær, Copenhagen
If I had to choose one dish to explain what makes Eric Vildgaard such an extraordinary cook, I could easily choose this pavlova, because within something so deceptively familiar he manages to show almost everything that makes Jordnær great. The meringue breaks with the lightest touch before giving way to a soft, elastic center, the Miyazaki mango arrives with an almost outrageous concentration of perfume and flesh, and the sheep’s cream cuts through the sweetness with acidity, richness and that slightly wild lactic character that changes the entire register of the dessert. What fascinates me is the restraint behind all this pleasure. Vildgaard has access to extraordinary produce and the technique to do almost anything with it, yet he knows exactly when to stop. Nothing shouts, nothing begs for admiration, and still the effect is overwhelming. This is the kind of cooking I find increasingly rare: precise, sensual, intelligent and completely sure of itself. The best pavlova I have ever eaten, and one of those dishes that make Copenhagen suddenly seem much closer than it is.
Info: Gentoftegade 29, 2820 Gentofte, Denmark
restaurantjordnaer.com
Sugar Shack • Al Gatto Verde, Modena
There is something beautifully personal about this dessert, because Jessica Rosval is really serving a piece of her Canadian childhood at the table. The ritual comes from the sugar shacks she grew up with: hot maple syrup poured over snow or crushed ice, setting almost instantly before being rolled around a stick into tire d’érable. At Al Gatto Verde, inside Massimo Bottura and Lara Gilmore’s Casa Maria Luigia, Rosval takes that memory and gives it a new life through maple syrup mousse, fudge and this wonderfully primitive little lollipop made in front of you. I loved the generosity of it, the way something rooted in childhood survives all the technique and still tastes joyous, sticky, rich and deeply familiar. Rosval is a remarkably instinctive cook, and this dessert explains her beautifully: Canada, memory and playfulness folded into the world she has created in Modena, with enough sophistication to belong there and enough heart to make you want another one immediately.
Info: Stradello Bonaghino 56, San Damaso, Modena, Italy
https://ristorantealgattoverde.com/
Tarte Tatin • Atelier Moessmer Norbert Niederkofler, Brunico
At Atelier Moessmer, the Tarte Tatin has become part of the restaurant’s mythology, and with good reason. It began in the Rosa Alpina years with Andrea Tortora, then slowly evolved into something unmistakably tied to Norbert Niederkofler and his way of cooking. The apples from Alto Adige are pushed deep into caramelization, the pastry stays light and beautifully crisp, and the yogurt ice cream melts into the warmth of the fruit with exactly the right amount of acidity. What I love is the way Niederkofler has taken one of the most recognizable French desserts imaginable and made it speak with a completely different accent. It now belongs to South Tyrol, to Cook the Mountain, to that extraordinary obsession with place that runs through everything he does. Alessio Billeci carries it forward today with remarkable precision, and the result is one of those desserts that feels almost timeless, familiar and somehow entirely his at the same time.
Info: Via Walther von der Vogelweide 17, 39031 Brunico BZ, Italy
ateliernorbertniederkofler.com
Koji, Fennel & Pine Cone • RE-NAA, Stavanger
I remember this dessert at RE-NAA with unusual clarity because it had the rare confidence to be complicated without ever becoming difficult. The koji gave the ice cream a deep, roasted sweetness with that faintly fermented edge that makes the flavor linger, while fennel brought brightness and the pine cone syrup carried this resinous, almost wild character that seemed to pull the Norwegian landscape straight onto the plate. Fine crisp elements of chocolate added richness and texture, but the dessert never lost its sense of air. What impressed me most was the way Sven Erik Renaa allowed all of those ideas to remain distinct and still make complete sense together. There is something very Scandinavian about that restraint, but also something deeply personal in the way he uses fermentation and the forest as flavor rather than decoration. It was one of those desserts that made me understand RE-NAA more clearly than any description ever could.
Info: Nordbøgata 8, 4006 Stavanger, Norway
restaurantrenaa.no
81% Grand Cru Cacao, Honeyberry & Meyer Lemon • Boury, Roeselare
Chocolate is one of those ingredients that can seduce you far too easily, which is exactly why the great chocolate desserts are usually the ones that refuse to take the easy route. At Boury, during one of the most impressive meals I had in 2026, this 81% Grand Cru cacao dessert had the depth, bitterness and almost brooding intensity I wanted from the chocolate, while honeyberry and Meyer lemon kept opening windows through it, sharpening the edges and bringing a vivid freshness that made the whole thing feel far more alive. What I loved was the tension between richness and acidity, the way the cacao stayed dark and commanding while the fruit kept pulling it somewhere lighter, brighter and less predictable. Tim Boury has a remarkable sense of control, and this dessert showed it beautifully: powerful, elegant and deeply satisfying, with enough restraint to let the chocolate remain completely itself.
Info: Rumbeeksesteenweg 300, 8800 Roeselare, Belgium
restaurantboury.be
Laminaria Digitata • Le Coquillage, Saint-Méloir-des-Ondes
I went into this dessert with a degree of suspicion, mostly because seaweed has never been what I instinctively want at the end of a great meal. Hugo Roellinger made that suspicion disappear within a few bites. Laminaria digitata, a wild Atlantic seaweed, becomes something cold, saline and almost crystalline, carrying iodine and that unmistakable freshness of the Breton coast. Confit kombu adds depth and umami, smoked caramel brings sweetness in exactly the right place, and caviar stretches the maritime character even further. What stunned me was how natural the whole thing felt. There was nothing conceptual about the pleasure of eating it, even if the idea itself sounds radical on paper. Roellinger has always had an extraordinary ability to let the sea enter his cooking without turning it into scenery, and here he pushed that language into dessert with breathtaking intelligence. One of the five greatest desserts I have ever eaten in a three-Michelin-star restaurant.
Info: Le Coquillage, Château Richeux, Saint-Méloir-des-Ondes, France
maisons-de-bricourt.com
Baba au Rhum • Le Louis XV Alain Ducasse, Monaco
The baba au rhum has had the rare privilege of becoming a classic twice. The first time was when it entered the great French pastry canon; the second came when Alain Ducasse took hold of it and gave it a new life of his own. At Le Louis XV, where Emmanuel Pilon now carries the cuisine forward with remarkable authority, the baba still feels completely at home, almost as if the restaurant and the dessert had grown up together. The dough is impossibly light, soaked just far enough to hold its shape while taking on the warmth and perfume of the rum, and the vanilla cream arrives cool, airy and almost indecently good beside it. What fascinates me is how Ducasse managed to take something so deeply familiar and make his version feel almost definitive. Generous, boozy, elegant and deeply pleasurable, this is one of those desserts that reminds you why certain classics never really age.
Info: Hôtel de Paris Monte-Carlo, Place du Casino, 98000 Monaco
montecarlosbm.com
Melipona Bee Honey Ice Cream, Papaya, Lavender & Caviar • Quintonil, Mexico City
The Melipona is a stingless bee, but in Jorge Vallejo’s hands its honey develops a remarkable edge, and that tension runs through the whole dessert. Deeply rooted in Maya culture and produced in tiny quantities, the honey gives the ice cream a sweetness that is delicate rather than obvious, with acidity and a faintly fermented character underneath. The papaya brings ripe, fleshy fruit, lavender drifts through more as perfume than flavor, and then the caviar arrives and changes the whole rhythm of the plate. Its salinity pushes against the honey, sharpens it, and gives the dessert this strange sensation of suddenly opening out toward the sea. That is what I find so compelling about Vallejo at Quintonil: he can take something with real cultural weight and make it feel intimate, contemporary and completely alive on the palate. It is elegant, sensual and unmistakably Mexican, with enough nerve to stay in your head long after the meal is over.
Info: Newton 55, Polanco, Mexico City, Mexico
quintonil.com
Camphor-Infused Creation, Chocolate Nuances • L’Orangerie, Four Seasons George V, Paris
L’Orangerie entered a new chapter this year with Bertrand Noeureuil, and on my first dinner there in this new era, Michaël Bartocetti reminded me once again why I hold his work in such high regard. This dessert was extraordinary, and more importantly, deeply delicious. Chocolate came through in different shades and textures, dark, bitter, smooth, almost velvety at times, while camphor brought this cool, botanical, faintly resinous note that kept shifting the way the cacao tasted from one bite to the next. It is a pairing that could easily become severe in the wrong hands; Bartocetti makes it sensual. The camphor lifts the chocolate, gives it air, length, and a strange freshness, while the cacao keeps the whole thing grounded and luxurious. I kept thinking about it for days afterwards, which is usually the clearest sign that a dessert has done something more than simply impress me at the table. One of the finest I tasted in Paris this year.
Info: 31 Avenue George V, 75008 Paris, France
fourseasons.com/paris
Peach, Bell Pepper & Alkermes • Reale, Castel di Sangro
At Reale, Niko Romito has taken bitterness further than almost anyone I can think of, and this dessert shows just how far he can push it without losing pleasure for a second. The peach is ripe, juicy and almost voluptuous, then the bell pepper comes in with that green, bitter edge and turns the whole thing on its head. Alkermes, the old Italian red liqueur scented with cinnamon, clove, citrus and herbs, brings warmth and spice and somehow makes the two taste as though they had always belonged together. I remember the first bite because it made me smile. Peach and pepper sound almost wrong on paper; at Reale they make perfect sense. That is Romito for me. He keeps stripping things back until there is nowhere left for the ingredients to hide, and then somehow the flavor becomes even bigger. One of the most thrilling desserts I have tasted all year.
Info: Piana Santa Liberata, 67031 Castel di Sangro AQ, Italy
nikoromito.com