It stared at me with its big hazel brown creamy fondue. I tried just walking past but the pull was too great and I hastily discovered its name and treasured it upon the tip of my tongue; “peanut butter dairy free muffin,” repeating it with caress to the cashier girl.
I had almost forgotten about it when it was brought over to my table on a large tray, looking as seductive as it did on the stand with its sisters.
A knife was set on the plate next to it, the cupcake was literally begging for me to plunge into it with the weapon.
It’s sticky head refused to release the knife, whereas the moist sponge underneath crumbled under my touch. I instantly found out that my purchase was like pulling a needy girl- I wish I hadn’t.
The surface frosting ran deeper than I realised, the cake was so crumbly in my hand I wondered if there was anything other than the sickly frosting at all. Rather than being shallow and having no substance it was more a problem of having TOO much substance.
The cake was nice but I have no idea what flavour the sponge was as their was so much peanut butter on top, I had to scrape away half of the top layer and the chopped nuts on top just so I didn’t have a mouth full of sandwich spread.
Far from being overly disappointed there was nothing but the smearing of cream on the paper case and some escapee crumbs strewn across the clean white table within about a minute.
It was not perfect, and I would not taste it for a second time; but for a minute that cake was all mine, and I regret nothing.