Spouse to me (as he drives to the bank): "Hey, we're getting a Nothing Bundt Cakes."
Me to spouse: "OMIGOD, WHERE?"
Spouse: "Where the Starbucks used to be."
Me: "Which Starbucks?"
Spouse: "The one in our neighborhood."
Me: [Silence . . . because I have dropped the phone, run out of my office and down the hall, and am doing my best Paul Revere imitation: "NOTHING BUNDT CAKES IS COMING! NOTHING BUNDT CAKES IS COMING!"]
My office hearts NBC. Specifically, we heart their "signature" icing - a sweetened cream cheese mixture evidently applied using a pastry bag with a tip that has an opening the diameter of a garden hose.
We also enjoy the cakes that the icing is slathered on, and the whimsical decorations that they place on top of said cakes - but the cake and the decor are, well, icing on the proverbial cake, the "cake" in this scenario being that yummy icing, and the icing being the actual cake, and - okay, I'm confusing myself.
What I know is this: if they sold that icing by the shot (and - note to local franchisee - you totally SHOULD), our office would send a runner to do a pick-up. Or, better yet, they could deliver (ANOTHER NOTE TO LOCAL FRANCHISEE . . . .).
Until now, all NBC deliveries to our office (and NBC's are our go-to firm birthday party dessert) have come courtesy of Vicki, our paralegal/mulitasker extraordinaire, who is fortunate to live in Southlake, near an NBC franchise. Disclaimer: I am NOT a suburban person. Well, I was raised as one, but I am in recovery. But close proximity to an NBC storefront is one of those points that I have had to, begrudgingly, award to the 'burbs.
Until now. Now, I can have my urban cake, and eat it, too. Literally. Like, I could walk there.
Some of my favorite NBC selections are pictured below. Bad Bundt-related puns are included in the price. Check out their other selections at http://www.nothingbundtcakes.com/.