I started having cravings for cupcakes yesterday. Since starting at Weight Watchers, I have had a few desserts: carrot cake on my birthday; mango custard and a carrot pudding when I’ve gone out for Indian. Modestly portioned, eaten mindfully, feeling content afterwards. Even though I can eat a whole pan of the carrot pudding on my own. But yesterday, I wanted cupcakes.
My first line of defense against the urge to haul out the baking equipment is drawn by the Banana Supreme. Slicing a banana lengthwise, smear on a point’s worth of almond or peanut butter, then stick the two halves together and sprinkle with cinnamon or frost with a point’s worth of Greek yogurt. It distracts me long enough to prevent rash behavior involving mixing bowls and pans.
But I was thinking of cupcakes yesterday. Thinking of them with the same passion and ardor that I have been known to think about Sting with. Cruising the Facebook pages that specialize in sugar overload. Considering the possibilities of Sting showing up with one of those little boxes with one of those impeccable culinary jewels inside of it.
Yep, yesterday was a good day for a Banana Supreme.