This is what my cupcake looked like 20 seconds ago; now the wrapper is empty, save for a sprinkle of red crumbs.  As it turns out, most of my day is generally spent thinking about food. I know that most of everyone’s days are spent thinking about food, so I am not alone. But today’s bite of sweet, squishy red velvet cake really caught me off guard.

As is pretty routine, I walked along Crosby Street and passed the Housing Works Bookstore & Cafe.  I decided that I needed another iced coffee for the afternoon, so in I went, ordered my coffee, and noticed the little rows of home-baked goodies from the volunteer-staffed cafe counter. The cupcakes were unquestionably baked in someone’s home oven, and they looked so petite and inviting that I had no choice but to buy one.  And I thought to myself, “Lauren, you’re supporting the arts, you’re supporting the nonprofit bookstore that you love, and you’re inevitably supporting one of those cute little women behind the counter who inevitably baked the cupcakes.”  The red velvet + cream cheese (or is it buttercream?) frosting was a no-brainer decision, and I happily took it to go, swinging my paper bag all the way back to Grand Street.

an old, old picture of crosby street

I returned, tried to save the cupcake til later, failed to resist temptation, and took a big ol’ bite. Well, not that big, but big enough to be really surprised by how extraordinarily delicious a homemade cupcake could be.  Forget the overpriced miniatures at Melissa’s, and overindulged concoctions at the heavily tourist-infested Magnolia – Betty Crocker, Duncan Hines and that giggling Pillsbury Doughboy know what’s best!  I’m a proponent of the slow food movement, and I consume as much locally grown food as I can, but there’s something so indescribably comforting about the taste of cupcakes made from old-school boxed mix.

Now I’m ready for my nap!

~ lauren