The Worst Cupcake Ever

Why can't I learn my lesson? It's my fault. Everytime I see that Whole Foods has a new vegan dessert option in their bakery, I give it a try. And every time, it's terrible. And not that "kinda gross but I'll still eat it" supermarket bakery terrible. We're talking "took a bite and threw the rest away" terrible.

I saw that the Whole Foods on South Street had a really cute new gourmet cupcake display. One side was all standard, and one side was all vegan, with options like cookies and cream, gingerbread and lemon, vanilla and raspberry, and a few others. They looked pretty cute. They were $1.99 each. I thought I'd give one a try. I picked up the Cookies and Creme.

I think terrible might be going easy on this cupcake. The cake was so dry it crumbled when I thought about picking off a piece. I didn't really taste any chocolate. And the frosting? It was salty. SALTY! I was craving cookies and cream and got a mouth filled with salt. I didn't have a drink on me, and the taste lingered for a half an hour. Worst. Cupcake. EVER.

Whole Foods, please, PLEASE stop making vegan desserts until you learn how to make them well. You're giving vegan sweets a bad name. Or, y'know, feel free to hire me or buy my cupcakes instead. But for the love of all things delicious, stop putting out the crap you're currently selling.

The Best Pizza Pie in Philadelphia

I've spent most of my time in the bedroom these last few days. Quit giving me the sassy eye, that's not what I'm talking 'bout. It's the only room in the house with an air conditioner. In case you haven't heard, there's a heat wave in Philadelphia. 

104 °F outside feels something like 9,941 °F in a South Philly row home. Accordingly, I've been treating the rest of my apartment like the surface of the sun and venturing out only for necessities like water refills and multiple showers. 

Baking? HA. Haha. Ha. Ha. Ha. What is that? I'm fairly certain if I turned on my oven it would spontaneously combust at this point. So while I'm in the kitchen, I'll just grab this pint of coconut sorbet and this bag of fresh cherries and head back to my crisp bedroom climate, thankyouverymuch. 

I've got a fridge full of just-picked garden-fresh veggies and herbs. But they're just gonna have to wait. Now is the time for going out to eat and grabbing take-out. And, oh yeah: Pizza. 

You probably already know about my love for pizza. It's a pure, deep and wholesome love. After a couple of terrible experiences with pizza joints around Philadelphia, I swore off pizza from the city entirely. Until I tried the vegan pizza at Whole Foods on South Street. 

I'm usually unimpressed with Whole Foods' pre-made vegan dishes, especially anything that comes out of their bakery. But this pizza is the best pizza I've had in Philadelphia. Seriously. It reminds me a lot of pizza from Scranton. Like if Calabria's and Maroni's got together and made delicious pizza pie babies. 

I have to confess, I found out about their pizza months ago. I get a slice every week on my Whole Food's shopping trip. But I've never held on to one long enough to document it. Usually, a slice doesn't make it out of the parking lot. What you're seeing here is the first slice to have a life-span longer than 15 minutes. Historical. 

So what's so great about it? The crust on WF's pizza is thin and crispy, but with flavor (they often use a multi-grain crust). The sauce is a little sweet, and tastes like it's freshly made. And the cheese, THE CHEESE. They use Daiya, which is a new vegan cheese product that actually melts and stretches. It's amazing. It's completely changing what it means to be vegan (or lactose intolerant)! Whole Foods' uses a combination of the mozzarella and cheddar flavor, and when those two powers combine the result is miraculous. The cheese actually gets gooey and melty in the best way possible. NOM NOM NOM

I cannot vouch for the quality at any other Whole Foods, but if you can make it to the one on South Street in Philadelphia, I highly recommend this snack. They usually have two vegan options, one with a chef's choice of toppings. Get a slice of each and thank me later. You can find me sprawled out on my bed along with Gracie in a very unlady-like manner trying to stay cool. Knock first, please.