We got a tiny feel for the chefs' personalities, and I remember Morgan winking a lot, and Zac, covered in his now-famous disco dust from head to toe, whimsically blowing the stuff all over his plates. He's so cute it didn't instantly strike me as grody, but Mr. Chocolate was not amused. And once he expressed his extreme displeasure, it sank in that Zac's dust distribution might as well have been sneezing.
Each of the desserts had its merits, of course. Eric's brownie was masterfully moist and dense, like a good brownie should be, and it had a really nice spice to it. I think he chose a brownie because hey, for many, many people, brownies are chocolate at its best and most decadent. Actually, typing this, I wish that brownie would appear beside my keyboard. But I digress. Once you compared Eric's brownie to some of the more complicated and nuanced desserts, had he really done enough to win? Then again, Morgan was so eager to impress us, and to not feel like he could have done more, that he ended up doing too much. That gelatinous cube he called milk chocolate flan that he hoped Johnny wouldn't notice had separated (really, Morgan, really?) had nothing to do with the rest of his plate, and it just kind of sat there quivering like a weird alien about to breathe its last. So, finding the sweet spot (ugh, really, Dannielle, really?) of easy simplicity, masterful complexity, and just the right flavors is tough.
Ultimately, Zac, Heather H. and Seth hit it just right. Their dishes were surprising and left you wanting more, even after you'd already had twelve desserts. By the way, even if you just take a bite or two of twelve desserts, your heart beats so fast you might feel like an alligator is chomping through your ribcage. And yes, by "you," I mean "me."