Culturally, I am cupcake malnourished. I have yet to visit Magnolia, the famous cupcakery in NYC. Last year, when the Cupcake Truck came to Bushnell Park, I missed it entirely. But that does not mean that I try. My kitchen has several cupcake trays and I own one cupcake-specific cookbook. When it comes to baking, I have not learned the patience necessary to properly frost and decorate baked goods. By default, I’ve been on the mission to find the perfect cupcake. Much like my mission to find the perfect sangria and mojito, the process is more important than the actual outcome.

I’m not so interested in the red velvet cakes. They are not red or velvet, and more precisely, they are not chocolate.

The best cupcake that I can remember was actually placed in one of those ice cream cones that come in boxes at the supermarket. A cone cake? I believe it was handed to me at a Fourth of July picnic in Vernon when I was  somewhere between three and seven. If I ate it today, I’d probably be a little disappointed, but as a child, it was the absolute best thing ever.

My cupcake fixation is odd given that I do not enjoy most full-sized cakes. At weddings and birthday parties, I usually try to disappear when the cake comes out. People can be very pushy about cake! The frosting is usually too sweet for me, especially when the cake is bought from a grocery store. Come to think of it, the only supermarket cake I have ever enjoyed came from Whole Foods; at least I knew where my money went on that particular Whole Foods purchase. Cupcakes are different somehow. There’s the not having someone’s hands all over it as she cuts and doles out slices. It’s self-contained and does not require a plate and fork. Nobody tries to make it soggy by putting ice cream on it or next to it. They’re dainty and fancy. Not that I would recommend this, but they can double as projectiles more easily than sliced cake can. Remember that the next time you’re at a fancy schmancy function that needs some livening up.

Primarily, my cupcake dealers have been multiple Starbucks and the Blue Back Square Barnes & Noble. The Starbucks cupcakes are regular sized, moist, delicious, and fall apart too easily. The Barnes & Noble cafe cupcakes come from The Cheesecake Factory, a restaurant that I have never actually eaten at, and frankly, their desserts are the only part of their menu I find appealing. Their cupcakes are the size of a Rottweiler’s head. The amount of frosting doubles their height. They could be split down the middle and reasonably shared with another person. These are a little like the Guinness of cupcakes: there’s no point in trying to eat dinner after one.

I’ve been harboring cupcake guilt, as my purchases have been made exclusively outside of Hartford and from corporations. So, I felt a sense of relief when I saw that La Paloma had a few cupcakes in the display case where I usually see doughnuts and muffins. There was exactly one chocolate cupcake and it had my name on it. Initially, I thought it was a bit of a runt. Still, I had to bury my sorrows and stresses in something, and chocolate is more socially acceptable than valium. Probably less expensive too.

It was dressed up nicely, with a swirling skyward bit of frosting and delicate curls of chocolate on top of that. I took a bite. If ever I need to explain the difference between quality and quantity to someone, I would use this particular example to illustrate how so much flavor can be concentrated into such a small package. When I inquired about the origins of the cupcake, I was told that they were baked in Hartford. In fact, the cupcake’s creator was sitting in the shop. She and I discussed other possible flavors that might be experimented with, like coconut, key lime, espresso, and raspberry. I did not know this, but First & Last Bakery also has cupcakes. Since this is deep in the South End, almost into Wethersfield, I am not often in the area, thus, I have been to the bakery only once or twice ever. Does anyone know of other places in city limits to obtain cupcakes?