Meg Donohue

“Over the previous few weeks, I'd finally perfected the Julia St. Clair wedding cupcake: classic lemon cake with a hidden heart of my mom's boldly flavoured passion fruit filling, slathered high with Julia's favorite vanilla buttercream icing and glammed up a bit with sparkling curls of candied lemon rind.”

“By contrast, my method of eating a cupcake was quite straightforward - step one: gobble it down one large bite at a time until there's nothing left. That's it.”

“It would be a den for overgrown children looking for an indulgence, something nostalgic, something simultaneously luxurious and youthful. Much like a pharmaceutical drug or being in love, Annie's cupcakes would make you feel better.”

“I had, I'll admit, effected a certain style - a method, if you will - of cupcake eating. To begin, you remove the cupcake liner carefully so as not to unnecessarily crumble the cake, and set it aside. You then turn the cupcake slowly in your hand, taking bites along the line where cake meets icing, your mouth filling with a perfect combination of both components. Once you've come full circle, you gently twist off the bottom half inch of cake, a move that takes considerable finesse and leaves a delicate sliver of cake - the ideal size for lying flat on your tongue and allowing it to slowly dissolve, building anticipation for that final bite. To finish, you are left with the center cylinder of cake and icing, the cupcake's very heart, sometimes filled with a surprising burst of custard or jam or mousse, sometimes not, but always, always, the most moist, flavorful bite of the entire cupcake. Take a breath before diving into that final, perfect bite; it is to be savored for as long as possible. Finally, of course, you scavenge the crumbs from the cupcake liner you set aside during step one, then ball the liner into your fist and overhand it into the nearest receptacle. Make the shot? You get another cupcake.”

“Since when had I become such a slave to security? Since when had my dream to be my own boss morphed into merely working for my dream boss?”

“Shoot. It's always so disappointing to realize the world goes on without me.”

“Hair, apparently, is the new window to the soul.”