Birthday Cake!(s)!!!

Somehow, Georgetown Cupcake and Cake Love always get all the cupcake press in DC and “Hello, Cupcake!” (by far the winner for cutest name) gets a little forgotten.  Why? Look at how wonderful they are:

Double Chocolate, Carrot Cake (the bottom center one got a little mushed!), Lemon

Chocolate Peanut Butter, Lime Coconut, Gluten Free Carrot Cake, Chocolate Cake with Pink Sugar Icing, Dark Chocolate Hazelnut, Root Beer Float

This is my favorite: chocolate peanut butter kiss

The cupcakes were a wonderful afternoon-cake (on my Birthday I eat cake at all mealtimes and for snack. Why not? It’s the one day that pigging out is completely sanctioned.  Maybe also Valentines Day, but in my experience that never feels quite as liberating…)

The only problem with the cake-all-day lifestyle is that you have to pace yourself.  Take small bites. Example: the pink cupcake above.  The goal is to make it to the final after dinner cake and fully enjoy the birthday present I ask for every year: a fancy dinner.

This year I made a reservation at The Source.  I got a little nervous when the waiters described the testing menu as a “marathon.” Honestly, I think they should rethink that description, since “marathon” has torturous connotations.  The dinner was by far the opposite of torture, but it was also definitely the opposite of rabbit food.  Thank god.  All eight (!!) courses were tasty but the tuna tartare ‘ice cream cones,’ slightly seasoned tuna in crunchy sesame seed cones, and the crispy suckling pork were probably my favorites.  My brother loved the slices of Kobe steak and everyone enjoyed the “dim sum” course, a tray of dumplings.  As an unexpected bonus, the dim sum course required chopsticks and then everyone benefitted from the added enjoyment of my brother’s hilarious running commentary on my chopstick use, or lack thereof.  I love to eat sushi, lived for a summer with an Asian food fanatic (Alicia) and been to freaking Thailand, and I still drop my food everywhere, hold the sticks in the wrong direction and pinch with the wrong fingers.  It’s a disaster.  Imagine the comedy after a few glasses of wine… But the pork belly dumplings are worth any level of humiliation.  They are so addictive, and our family table was probably acting so drunkenly amicable, that a friendly waitress came up to chat about the dim sum.  Apparently, she likes the pork belly variety so much that the staff gave her the nickname “tiny dumpling.”  I’d love to have that nickname.  I don’t think I’m being sarcastic but I may not have fully thought through the consequences of my conviction.

It was a a day of extended deliciousness.  I am proud to say, I MADE IT TO THE LAST CAKE (s)!

Important lesson learned: why have one when you can have more?