Out of curiosity, I checked when I last posted a cupcake review and the date read September 28, 2011. I cried out in disbelief! Could it really have been that long? I’ve been wearing black ever since this discovery, and now I’m ready to join society again. My lack of posting can be attributed to the all-consuming “Graduate School,” subtitled, “Dissertating is a pain in my arse.” It still is, but I’m back, for better or for worse.
I didn’t write this at Christmas and then forget to post it. Sadly, I’ve written it now, at the end of January. All you judgers don’t be judgin’ and all you haters save your hatin’. At least give me a chance to explain.
Christmas in January exists. Its presence is confirmed by the lingering Christmas lights strewn haphazardly across the local shrubbery, and dried up pine wreaths hanging askew on a neighbor’s door, waiting to be ignited by the unsuspecting front porch smoker. Just yesterday, I saw a manger scene lit in full glory. “Laziness!” the haters exclaim. Perhaps. I like to think of January as the mourning period of Christmas past. Christmas enters as a whirlwind, and leaves us just as quickly with the blissful blinking lights fading in our eyes. Do I paint a sad picture? Well, cheer up! Christmas will be here again 4 years, 4 months, 5 days, 13 hours, 32 minutes ago.
Our Christmas tree is still up and glowing brightly. Let your judgment rain down upon me like soap flakes of shame. I am not worthy of real snow. We have many excuses. “We haven’t had time to take it down.” “We like the glow of the tree in the background while we watch a movie.” “It babysits the dogs while we’re gone.” Poppycock! We desperately cling onto that last bit of Christmas like I imagine grown’d up Linus would have clung to his childhood blankie before being forced to part with it. It’s not just a tree, or a blankie, it’s what it represents.
The tree comes down very soon, but I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I challenge you to do the same. That’s one of my New Year’s resolutions. Another (almost) universal resolution—lose some weight. A majority of us know this can be difficult, especially when you have a sugar addiction. My philosophy—if you’re going to cheat and have something sweet, reach for the real deal. Odds are, the low-cal, low-fat, tasteless garbage that some fools try to pass off as dessert will leave you unsatisfied in the end. Best treat yoself, lest you cheat yoself.
You deserve a taste of heaven. This provides a perfect segue into today’s cupcake review of A Taste of Heaven in Andersonville, Chicago. To find their site, I mistakenly typed tasteofheaven.com into the search engine. It was a naughty site for “cupcakes,” if you know what I mean. If you just came back from checking out the site, you best check yoself, lest you wreck yoself.
A Taste of Heaven (linked to the correct site) is a charming, little Chicago café that provides a surplus of savory and sweet items. I’ve been there three times just to confirm that each time would be as delectable as the last. I’m basically a regular. Cue soap flakes of shame. In my past wanderings to this establishment, I have tasted their Orange Dreamsicle, Boston Cream, and Chocolate Raspberry cupcakes.
On my first visit this past summer, I wisely chose the Orange Dreamsicle cupcake. It consisted of a scrumptious vanilla cake saturated with a creamy, yet tart orange-flavored filling, topped with smooth, orange-flavored buttercream frosting and an orange jelly candy. It should be the official cupcake of Florida. Disney should try to recreate this cupcake, because it is pure tropical magic.
On my second visit this past fall, the Boston Cream cupcake chose me. It’s breakfast for dessert, otherwise known as “bressert.” That is, if you consider a Boston Cream donut as breakfast, and I do. It’s the American way, otherwise known as “the fat country” way. Fatty! Fatty! Fatty! The dense vanilla cake oozed rich vanilla custard. This bressert was complete with a thick chocolate frosting, reminiscent of the chocolate icing that coats the traditional Boston Cream. I consumed it with a cup of coffee and was most satisfied.
On my most recent visit, which will surely not be my last, the server recommended the Chocolate Raspberry cupcake. This bit of heaven consisted of a decadent chocolate cake filled with fresh raspberry preserves, topped with a sweet, but not too sweet ricotta cheese frosting that was dipped in hard chocolate and topped with a ripe, red raspberry. This cupcake was luxurious in every way.
I don’t need to tell you that life is full of stresses. Don’t let them weigh you down. Instead, take a moment to treasure the sweet things.
As Tiny Tim observed, God bless us, everyone!