Have you ever done that thing where you take a giant bite of a cupcake (mostly frosting) and while it’s still in your mouth, swig from a bottle of vodka and then slosh it all together and swallow?
No? Oh, well now you can try with a product that doesn’t even require you to use an oven.
Cupcake Vineyards (of Cupcake Wines) has a new product, and this time it actually tastes like cupcakes. Cupcake Vodka, the new dessert flavored alcohol, comes in four flavors: Original, Chiffon, Devil’s Food and Frosting.
I am not a food purist by anyone’s standards, but I’m not going to try this Cupcake Vodka for several reasons.
First, infused vodkas are fine, but the best way to enjoy a cupcake is by eating one. A cupcake is not a fruit, or a flavor of its own. It’s a combination of flavors, baked and spread together to create an addictive frosted treat. Anything that already comes in different flavors doesn’t count as a flavor of its own.
Second, the product directly panders to people like me.
When I was seven, every Saturday my mom would take me to brunch at a classic small town diner. There, I gorged myself on French toast, saturated with real Vermont maple syrup, extra crispy bacon and possibly a side of two eggs fried in a generous portion of yellow-ish oil. After almost bursting my tiny stomach with this meal, on the way out of the restaurant I filled my pants and jacket pockets with free frosted sugar cookies (Sugar cookies were like our town’s version of mints or toothpicks at some diners), and continued to stuff myself with refined carbohydrates for the rest of the day.
I didn’t do this because it felt good. I did it because it felt great. In fact, it felt so great that nothing else mattered. And as with most habits we pick up at that age, I still have a hard time eating less than a full row of Thin Mints.
There are already too many compelling options for what to eat too much of. But what Cupcake Vodka does is combine the desire to binge on baked goods with hard alcohol—a whole other beast.
If you’re the type who can have just one (one cupcake, one martini—you pick) than you’re probably a balanced individual who is level enough to know that Cupcake Vodka sounds disgusting. But if you’re like me, and this drink sounds both disturbing and vaguely delicious, you should work to stay far away from Cupcake Vodka.
As they describe their product: “Starting with the finest grain and grape, Cupcake Vodka Original is six-times distilled to remove impurities while delivering a mouth-feel reminiscent of an indulgent delicious treat.”
If that’s not a “binge in a bottle,” I don’t know what is.