Scoops' out for Summer: Day 27

Day 27 of our 31-day ice cream feast, we visit a cupcake shop that's getting into the ice cream business.

Saint Cupcake
3300 SE Belmont St., 235-0078; and 1138 Southwest Morrison St., 473-8760, saintcupcake.com.

Price per scoop: Sundae cups $3, push-it pops $3, ice cream sandwiches $4.
Most popular flavor: Coco caramel push-it pops, smokey chocolate flake push-it pops, and Galore-e-o cookiewiches
The person in front of me: Was a filthy cupcake eater.
Best for: Overcoming your blind hatred of cupcake bakeries.

I hate cupcakes.

If I want cake, I'll bake a motherfucking cake. Cupcakes are never as good as real cake. Sure, the frosting is tolerable, but you never get enough frosting. You eat the frosting, and you're left with a little rock of dry crumbs and you just think "God, I wish this was a real cake." 

And don't start me on cupcake bakeries. Those things are as twee as Zooey Deschanel playing Talulah Gosh songs on a keytar while riding a rainbow-colored kitten.

These deeply rooted spiritual beliefs are why I have lived just a few blocks from Saint Cupcake's downtown store ever since it opened and have never stepped foot in it once. 

Until today.

I'm walking past, minding my own business, snorting "fucking cupcakes," and then I see this:

I steel myself, and open the glass doors, shielding my eyes from the offending baked goods. The place reeks of cupcake. It's crawling with them. Mercifully, the freezer is tucked away against in a corner, out of sight from those cutesy little fuckers.

Saint Cupcake's "melty goods" (gag me) selection includes ice cream sandwiches, "push it pops" (think non-trademark infringing Push-Ups), sundae cups and, ugh, chocolate-covered frozen cupcakes on sticks, which looked so cutesy, it should have its own Martha Stewart Living special edition. 

I purchased a Bonbonbutterbun push-it pop and buttered pecan praline sundae cup and promptly ran home before all the pastel colours permanently damaged my retinas. 

I wasn't wild about the push it pop. The concept was fun, and the ice cream itself was good, but it had Saint Cupcake's Bonbonbunbuns—"sweet little pillows of buttery brioche dough hand-tossed in a secret mixture of sugar and spice deliciousness" (seriously folks, I'm dying here)—crumbled throughout, which gave it a gritty texture.

The sundae cup was great, though. A Dixie cup of intensely buttery and creamy ice cream, topped with salty roasted pecans and praline sauce. I would tell you more, but I offered my partner a bite and he ate the whole thing. 

I guess I'll have to suffer the bakery again. 

WWeek 2015