I Like Cupcakes

A lot. I even like cupcake sketches on Saturday Night Live. That's the convinction I carry. That's how much I believe.

Cupcakes have a level of individuality, a bite-sized yet committed yet impassioned attitude toward life. They aren't afraid of icing it up, and yet get to wear cute little skirts. It's that blend of exuberance, even frivolity mixed with unnecessary modesty. That is the cupcake and that's what I love.

We have a rather newish cupcake store near downtown. Whenever I walk in, the clerk calls me Red. (Point.) They pimp out cupcakes I've never even thought of before (and now watch my lack of imagination run free): mint chocolate, lemon with lemon butter icing, red velvet, chocolate on chocolate (I have thought of that before, my unoriginality does know bounds), and then, cupcakes with peanut butter, dulce de leche, pineapple icing on top of delectable, small-pored cakes that remind you of pumpkins, orange dreamsicles, carrots, bananas.

You knowthe test for gelato, right? Check on the banana. If it's yellow, you move on. Banana gelato, if it's fresh and made from real bananas, should be gray.

Well, my test of cupcake rests with the strawberries. Find the cupcake with strawberry icing, distract the clerk by throwing a stick, stepping on his toe, whatever it takes, and stick your finger in the icing. It should look pink (the icing, that is) and taste like strawberries (icing-coated finger). If it doesn't, if you can put an adjective other than strawberry-ie, move on. Or wash your hands.