Let it be known that I don’t think there’s a carbohydrate that I don’t like. Chips. Cookies. Pita. Crackers. Sweet. Savory. Chewy. Crunchy. Crusty. I love it all.

But one of my favorite doughy, batter-y treats has to be cake. I have waited in lines and around blocks for the famed paper-wrapped sugar bombs at NYC’s Magnolia Bakery. I have spent hours perfecting my own recipes.

And now, I must have died.

Because I am in cake heaven.

We celebrated my mom’s birthday tonight. I happily surrendered cooking duty to my brother so I’d have an excuse to try the Twitterriffic RetroBakery.

I knew we were in for it when after what felt like an epic drive (I think I passed Moses along the way, but maybe that was a hitchhiker on the freeway on-ramp) and the guy who opened the door admitted that he and his friends were on their second run for the day.

The glass case of cupcakes sang their siren song to me. There were but a precious few left at that hour of the day, but there were enough for me. Kari is a great salesperson, but I was an easy mark. My plan for a purchase of eight quickly became ten and ten became an even dozen.

Let me tell you, I have yet to find a “you’d better eat your dinner if you want your dessert” motivational tool for my daughter than the vanilla on vanilla cupcake, complete with rainbow sprinkles, of course.

The kaleidescope of flavors was amazing. I had the pink lemonade first (yes, I ate more than one, duh!). As I peeled the wrapper, my nose was alive with the smell of fresh lemons. The pink buttercream frosting was a perfect balance of sweetness without being too rich or grainy. The cake itself was awesome. All too often cupcakes have become these dense mini-bricks used as frosting conveyances.

My mother, the birthday girl, picked out the chocolate fountain cupcake a “chocolate cake topped with chocolate buttercream and dipped in chocolate ganache.” She’s a little 5’2″ dynamo of healthy eating. But she sucked down that cupcake like a Dyson on dirt. Seriously, I turned my back for a second and then she was this:

The kids loved their vanilla on vanilla and chocolate on vanilla concoctions, although after the frosting was devoured, there was little appreciation for the cake. But, they’re kids. So, I fully expected that.

After the sugar-fueled tantrums spun the kids into a deep slumber, I gently nibbled pretty much inhaled a Red Carpet. No, I’m not talking about a lesbian encounter with a fellow ginger-haired beauty. I’m talking about their version of a red velvet cupcake.

Red Velvet is a tough recipe to master. It’s an odd combo of vinegar, cocoa powder, food coloring, and more that’s more science experiment than cakery. For me, it’s the litmus test of a great baker.

Oh. My. F’ing God. I have never had anything like this before. Perfect density, beautifully balanced, a hint of cherry that totally blew me out of the water. I snagged a bite of the Peanut Butter Cup.

Dear Lord. You can take me now.

Oh wait. I still have two more in the kitchen. And there are so many flavors yet to try. I’m gonna be all over that Maple Bacon. I AM half-Canadian, eh.

*Cake images are borrowed from the Retrobakery website. The cupcakes didn’t last long enough to be captured in frame.