Once you start a project like a cupcake blog, it's amazing how cupcakes turn up just about everywhere, even in highly unlikely places, like a book about gay marriage. I just finished reading Dan Savage's new book The Commitment: Love, Sex, Marriage and My Family, and at the very end, they are in Vancouver and visit Cupcakes. Cake itself gets some major play in the book, especially in a chapter called "Five Cakes," but this bit about cupcakes, which I'll quote in part, made me smile:
The first all-cupcakes bakery in North America was in Vancouver-Cupcakes, on Denman Street-and we had stumbled into it the day it opened in 2002. I'd made a point of avoiding the place ever since-that's how good the cupcakes are...calories be damned, we were going to have some cake. Cupcakes was a short walk from our hotel, and we got there a few minutes before they closed and ordered three chocolate cupcakes with white frosting.
"What's the occasion?" the girl behind the counter asked D.J. as she boxed upour cupcakes. "Is it our birthday, little guy?"
D.J. didn't respond; he turned and buried his face in the side of my leg. It's his shy routine. I exepct that, like cuddling, soon I'll miss the times when D.J. pressed his foreehead into my leg to avoid a stranger's questions.
"He's shy," I explained to the girl behind the counter.
"Really?" she said. "Well, cupcakes are a cure for shyness."
The first all-cupcakes bakery in North America was in Vancouver-Cupcakes, on Denman Street-and we had stumbled into it the day it opened in 2002. I'd made a point of avoiding the place ever since-that's how good the cupcakes are...calories be damned, we were going to have some cake. Cupcakes was a short walk from our hotel, and we got there a few minutes before they closed and ordered three chocolate cupcakes with white frosting.
"What's the occasion?" the girl behind the counter asked D.J. as she boxed upour cupcakes. "Is it our birthday, little guy?"
D.J. didn't respond; he turned and buried his face in the side of my leg. It's his shy routine. I exepct that, like cuddling, soon I'll miss the times when D.J. pressed his foreehead into my leg to avoid a stranger's questions.
"He's shy," I explained to the girl behind the counter.
"Really?" she said. "Well, cupcakes are a cure for shyness."
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