I like you. I promise that I do. I even declared my love for you to all of the Internets. Not that I’m a big advocate of conditional affection or anything, but I did remark at the time that your prices are a bit high. And if that’s the cost of our occasional dalliances, well, so be it. Just don’t be surprised when they are increasingly occasional. After all, I’m working on a nonprofit salary and paying down student loans and it’s pretty darned hard these days to find $1.50 plus tax for a cookie. Sure, it’s a tasty cookie. It’ll get you through an afternoon of report-writing and right into a yoga class if you time it right. But still…$1.50? Well, I should have counted myself lucky to escape with such a great deal. Because compared to what I just paid for one of your cupcakes, the cookie is a steal.
The cupcake seemed like a good idea. I like your coconut and sour cream cake. I like cupcakes. I have been to some of Los Angeles’ finer cupcake eateries and have not flinched in the past from paying several dollars for a lovely cupcake. But what I got from you today was really just a slap in the face. Sure, it was delicious. But was it $2.50 plus tax delicious? I’m gonna say no. It’s got a delicate taste, but it’s not even in the top echelon of coconut-type cupcakes I’ve consumed in my life (and that’s a lot). Maybe I would feel more charitable if the cupcake hadn’t seemed like it would barely fill a standard size cupcake liner. With frosting. And yes, I get that the sour cream batter is more dense. But $2.50? Please – the poor cupcake is barely the size of one of your cookies. I was sad, Cool Beans. I don’t have much money, and was so excited to acquire a lovely dessert treat from you to make my Monday better, and all I got was a tiny morsel of regret.