Making out with cake
I like cake. I eat it for birthdays (when burritos don't catch on), for weddings, for the occasional here's-a-cake day at work, but I don't love cake. I didn't think I'd crave it on a spring night. I didn't expect to want it from a cake shop. Then last night, I tried CakeLove.

It's a cake place, like Cold Stone Creamery is an ice cream place. This CakeLove place has been a bit of a media darling around here. If memory serves (and it usually doesn't), this place was started by a lawyer that was fed up with practicing law and wanted to pursue his cake dreams. A bunch of hard work later and poof he starts this place. Fun, slightly cliched arc leads to dessert. As I was saying, I never thought I'd crave cake and need to stop at place like CakeLove, but it was next to Eggspectation (a whole other story) and new and open and so I tried it.

I ordered a slice of Razzamatazz, mostly for the name. It. was. delicious. It was so moist and chocolatey and raspberry-ey. I wanted to make out with it. I think I understand the name of the place now.