While staying there I would walk everyday past a cute little bakery called The Hummingbird Bakery. With it's white facade and hanging cupcakes dangling in the windows, I found myself whispering, "ahhhh, the Hummingbird Bakery". Longing to go in, I never did because I was always scurrying somewhere with my husband.
At times....especially "tea time", which is 3-5 in London, there would be lines pouring out the doors and down the sidewalk. Their specialty was indeed the luscious cupcakes that I saw in the window displays.
On our last day my husband said, "Everyday you say, "ahhhh the Hummingbird Cafe. Why don't you go in and get us some!" So, when my husband was at a British football (soccer for you Americans) match, I went shopping. On my way home I stopped to spend some of my last pounds on the popular little cakes.
I was SO excited! Finally! The two little cupcakes sat in their brown and pink box it seem for hours until my husband returned back to our b&b (The Aster House). It was nearly seven when he got back, and we both had not eaten dinner, so we went out to a cute little French bistro down the street, leaving the little cupcakes for our return.
When we got back I could hardly wait for the unveiling of the prize British take on an American classic. My husband took the red velvet and I the chocolate with pink icing. We sank our teeth into the fluffy frosting and then down into the "sponge" (as the British call it). We both looked at each other with mouths full of the cake. And then it hit. It was the most horrible cupcake I had ever had in my life! We both swallowed hard and then pitch the pretty little things in the trash. How disappointing! I still can't figure out why on earth there would ever be a line out the door and down the street! So much for British food.