Today we stumbled across an Aussie bar, ‘Corroborree’, in Berlin, with Fosters flags proudly flying above the tables and the menu boasting specialties such as cheese on damper, macadamia bruschetta and baked potato with kangaroo fillet. The back leaf of the menu even explained ‘the word corroborree is still today a synonym for celebrations and festivities intended purely for relaxation and entertainment’ (??).

But so what if they spelt the word kangaroo differently every time it appeared in the menu - they had cheesecake! True blue, mouth-watering baked cheesecake. The Europe-wide quest I’d begun way back in 2005 had finally come to fruition.

We were tempted to ask for the manager and explain that as Australian ambassadors all the way from downunder we’d need a free sample of everything on the menu, just to check for authenticity, but instead we settled for two helpings of cheesecake (yes, that’s cake as a dinner subsitute - how naughty).

And then, it came. Perfect, jumbo triangle slices. Enough for four people in one serving. Blissful, baked cookie-crumble base. I took a tiny nibble from the side, savouring the delicious goodness of -

NOOO! NOT AGAIN! But yes. It was imposter cheesecake. Matter of fact, it wasn’t cheesecake at all. Just like the last time I thought my quest had come to a happy end, way back in Paris, it was….oh, I can barely say the word. Yes - flan. FLAN.

The mortal enemy of cheescake lovers. The evil imposter that poses as cheesecake until you take that first bite, then - BAM - it’s all custardy.

One day though, I swear it. One day I will complete my quest for cheesecake. Oh no, it’s not over.