On Friday we found out that Las Vegas has a Cupcake District.
We were out and tired and hungry, looking for a spot of food, and we decided to head west to Flamingo/215 to see if the Fuddrucker's was open yet. (Mike's never been, and I hadn't been in 20+ years. They do a veggie burger, right?)
It wasn't (open), but what was this next to it? Mad Hatter Cupcakes? Let's go in!
Wow. You know Cold Stone? Marble Slab? It's like that, but for cupcakes.
First you choose a "base" cupcake. (Lemon, vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, the usual.) Then you choose a filling for them to inject. (Mmm. Filling.) Then you choose a frosting. Then you choose a topping, like a piece of candy or an ornament or sprinkles or something.
TA DA! Very pretty, very fragrant, and that will be $3.50, please.
We stood there, still tired, still hungry, and now mesmerized by these attractive cupcakes. $3.50? Well, we could have just one, yes? Call it an adventure, yes?
Alas, it didn't work out. We stood there looking over the menu board, the only people in the store, quietly talking out our choices and murmuring over different interesting things (an all peanut butter cupcake, or the holiday display cupcakes at, OMG, $7 each), and every thirty seconds - I'm not kidding - the teenager came over and said, "just let me know when you're ready, okay?"
This was fine the first couple of times, but by about the third time we decided we were too tired and too hungry and too dazzled to be such a high pressure environment, so we left, off to look for real food again.
So we cross over to another part of the shopping center, looking for conventional food, and - what? ANOTHER cupcake store?
This time it's Cupcake Lane Bakery, and they have some moms inside, the kind of mom who just picked up a daughter from ballet. They also have plush striped linen chairs in front of the small display case in the little store, the type of chairs you expect to sit in while watching a friend try on bridal gowns. Clearly, we were in the little-known Cupcake District of Las Vegas, and boy is it fancy.
In we went, all in the name of high-spirited research, and maybe because TWO cupcake shops within walking distance of each other has to be a sign. The guy at the counter was very friendly and very patient as we consulted and pointed and tilted heads.
Also, the cupcakes aren't $3.50. I'm too mortified to admit what they did cost, since we got a dozen, but it wasn't $3.50, so we were saving money, see?
Verdict? The best cupcakes I've ever had. I don't know what I've been eating all my life, but clearly I've been doing cupcakes wrong.
Now the container is empty, and Mike makes hopeful words like, "I think we should treat ourselves to these only once in awhile... like... once a week?" They were so good.
Does Bed, Bath, and Beyond sell some kind of cupcake injection device? Obviously the next step is to try to make exceptionally delicious cupcakes at home (then fail, then use that as an excuse to buy more).
We did end up getting a proper dinner. Prima Pasta is in a little strip mall down the road, a place I never thought twice about since getting a carryout pizza there a few years ago and thinking, yes, this is good, but these aren't carryout prices. Faced with Taco Bell or Subway or (nooo!) cooking, we gave it a whirl, and it ended up being totally yummy.
We both had cheese tortellini, Mike with pomodoro sauce and me with Alfredo. They bring out (and keep bringing out) complimentary garlic knots just slathered in olive oil and parmesan, and the soft drinks are in huge tumblers that fit the sort of casual family dining atmosphere that somehow means just that and not "small children screaming all over the place, claiming it as their own."
(It's an important distinction to the childless: one means a good-natured relaxed buzzing, while the other means Kiddos First. It's Chili's versus Chuck E. Cheese. One is the place you take your kids only when they can refrain from standing on the tables and screaming, and the other is the other. And you can probably tell that I'm still bitter about our last trip to Chili's, where we got to sit next to three circus monkeys with chip baskets on their heads, feet everywhere but dangling from the chair, and ceaseless hollering, but I don't feel like officially going to war with the "Parents have a right to have an evening out, just like everyone else! Do you expect them to pay for sitters or just stay home????!!!!" brigade.)
Oh, and the service at Prima Pasta was excellent. I've been to two very bad (and completely unaffiliated) restaurants called "Prima Pasta" before (both in Texas, one notable for its hot-dog-bun garlic bread), but don't let any previous experiences keep you from that big bowl of tortellini comfort. (Or whatever your pasta pleasures are - what they don't have, they'll make.)
Weekends are so nice.
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