Pretty Pretty Cupcake, Why Do You Taste So Bland? (Cupcakes at The Cupcake Cafe)

You must hate me, reading public. I’ve been backlogged since Tuesday: four days of posts I haven’t shared with you. Well not TOO much has happened. Tuesday I spent the day with Kirk of The Daily Kirk and we had a true New York day. Started in the Village–ate brunch at Shopsin’s. This time I tried the Charlie Chan sandwich which had pork and other Asian vegetables in a sesame-studded flat bread. I enjoyed it, though it was a little early in the day for big chunks of pork. After that we hopped on the subway and toured The Metropolitan Museum of Art (or “the Met” as its called in local circles. One trick you may already know is that admission prices are RECOMMENDED. So when it says adults $15 or whatever you can pay $1 and still get in. I know museum advocates will find it alarming I’m destroying their chances of making money, but I think it’s a little sneaky how small the font is on the word “RECOMMENDED.”)

After the Met, we tried to get tickets for show. Eventually we saw “Hurlyburly” but before that we grabbed dinner at the mediocre HK (where my friend Ricky used to work) and then shot across the street for cupcakes at The Cupcake Cafe. Here’s Kirk outside:

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It was really sunny, hot and uncomfortable out. Cupcakes weren’t necessarily what the doctor ordered. Kirk didn’t want one so I ordered one alone. The choices are pretty straight forward: chocolate or vanilla, big or small. All the cupcakes are gorgeously decoraetd. Here’s the one I ultimately chose, vanilla on vanilla which is my favorite in case anyone’s sending me cupcakes for my son’s Bar Mitzvah: (that is when I have a son):

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Some seriously talented pipers are piping icing at The Cupcake Cafe. Soak in that beauty, becasue that’s the best part. Honestly you’re not missing much else: the cupcake tasted like flavorless cake with whipped butter on top. It was hugely disappointing. This certainly ranks far far behind the delicious cupcake I enjoyed at Magnolia and the one I enjoyed last year at Buttercup. It’s like a prom Queen: all pretty on the outside but soulless. Unless your prom queen was Aretha Franklin.

Go for the beauty, but leave without tasting. That is my analysis of “The Cupcake Cafe.”

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