Here's some advice you probably never thought you'd read on a cupcake review: Don't rent your house to drug dealers.
But I can explain!
But I can explain!
Short version: I rented my old house to drug dealers which resulted in a larger than normal cupcake purchase.
For those of you not familiar with my particular brand of crazy let me explain further.
When Opie and I got married two and half years ago, we each had a house. Mine was in St. Louis, his was in Oklahoma. I was going to sell my house when I moved to Oklahoma but the housing market was in really bad shape so instead we made the insane decision to rent my house out.
In our defense this didn't seem like an insane decision at first. I mean, I rented for years before I bought my house and in all that time I ALWAYS paid my rent and I NEVER sold drugs out of the basement.
Who knew that this wasn’t universally accepted as appropriate renter behavior?
The first woman we rented to—my next-door neighbor’s daughter, by-the-way—stopped paying rent almost immediately.
After we finally got rid of her, we hired a property manager, did a background check and a new set of tenants who did pay their rent…they could afford to, you see, because of the DRUG DEALING.
An activity that we only became aware of after the Missouri police called me in Oklahoma, told me they’d performed a drug raid on the premises, and that if we didn’t “take action” against the tenants and “remove them” that the city could actually come in and take my house away.
I allowed as how, considering all the trouble we’d had with the place, I would cheerfully let the city have the house if they also took over the mortgage. Heck, I’d put the keys in the mail immediately.
It is interesting to note that that’s not exactly how the house confiscation program works.
And I’m pretty sure that particular police detective doesn’t think I’m funny AT all.
The drug dealers also don’t think I’m funny—and they think I’m a complete killjoy because not only did we not let them continue their (apparently lucrative) business on our property, we also wouldn’t let them continue to live on our property.
Clearly, we are unreasonable people.
But if you feel sorry for the poor, evicted drug dealers, don’t worry, they got their revenge by turning off the heat before they left—in the middle of one of the coldest weekends in St. Louis history.
There’s nothing like thousands of dollars of damage from frozen pipes to really put a shine on the whole “being a landlord” experience.
Which, though interesting, probably doesn’t seem to have any connection to cupcakes.
The thing is, yet another bill for the repairs showed up on the same day that I discovered yet another cupcake place in Tulsa…And I am an emotional eater.
I eat when I’m happy, I eat when I’m sad, I eat when I’m angry, and I definitely eat when I’m frustrated by bills to remodel a house I don’t even live in.
I walked into this new cupcakery called Not Your Grandma’s Cupcakes and instead of buying 1 or 2 like I usually do, I bought 4 cupcakes.
And not all of them made it to the car.
You know what?
I don’t have a single regret.
Because they were GREAT.
My favorite one was Death By Oreo:
Chocolate cake with little bits of Oreo mixed in, and a whole Oreo baked into the bottom—which gave it a yummy crunch when I bit into it. The frosting was thick Oreo-flavored cream cheese.
Definitely not homemade--I suspect doctored up cake mix and canned frosting, especially since on their website, the owner admits that she’s not exactly a “made from scratch” bakery but just tries to make the tastiest concoctions possible.
And it works.
And it works.
So, final verdict:
Price: Average (2.75 or 10.50 for 4)
Cake: Moist and just a touch of tasty crunch.
Icing: Not from scratch but sweet and tangy.
The kind of cake that almost makes you forget that you let drug dealers trash your house.