I have this friend with a body fat content of 4 percent. Four percent! That’s less than a quarter of the average for men his age. He’s a manic bicycle man, and I’m sure the many upsides to riding must escape him as skin and bones substitute for muscle. When he sticks out his tongue, he looks like a very large zipper. If he ever cuts a CD, the producers could save a few bucks by putting his picture on the side of the case. Whenever he stands to my right, we look like the number 10. And may the gods help him if he’s stranded on Mount Everest—his lack of natural insulation means certain death (if the sherpas even let him climb, which they probably won’t).
The latter assumes that he hasn’t eaten at Babycakes, the venue with the name that sticks to your heart and the vittles that stick to your ribs. As the handle implies, this Hillcrest eatery specializes in desserts, but its point of departure lies in the extensive cocktail menu, patterned after the sugary edibles. Peanut butter and jelly cupcakes? Chocolate chips and cream cheese? Custard and whipped cream? Wash ’em down with a New York City Cheesecake (vanilla vodka and cranberry) or a Jungle Island (my fave—pineapple juice, Malibu rum and crme de cacao), and that emaciated pile of rubble you call a body suddenly threatens to get stuck in the door on the way out (no item is priced above $8.50 to boot). And while the sweets here are especially intense, Babycakes also has you covered in the sensible department, offering salads, soups and a weekend brunch with traditional breakfasts.
But it’s the scrumpdillyicious desserts you’ll be after at this place, located at 3766 Fifth Ave. and open Sundays through Thursdays from 9 a.m. to 11 p.m. and Fridays and Saturdays from 9 a.m. to midnight (phone 619-296-4173; see babycakessandiego.com for more). I’ve highly recommended it to my pal, who needs to pick up 20 pounds, and fast. Those ocean breezes can be bad news to guys like him.