TROPICAL MUFFIN

Mind if I take a few moments to tell you how amazing today's muffin is?

The lady in the cafe said it would be. She looked at me with sparkly eyes and told me it was tropical.

"Tropical?" said I, quizzically. She smiled and went to the back to a silver-grey cupboard. Then she beamed her way back to the counter, carrying a transparent bag of coloured smoothie goo. The bag had a label bearing pictures of pineapples, mangoes, papayas, passion fruit, and all manner of exotic wonders.

"Ooh," I said, in much the same way that little boys do outside the toy shop. (Well, at least they used to; I don't know whether little boys still press cold noses against the shop-windows to stare at train tracks, and wooden soldiers, and meccano-airplanes suspended on strings, but it was a bit like that)...

"Have I sold it?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

I nodded.

"That'll see you through to tea," said she, twisting a tropical muffin into a brown paper bag.

And then some! It's delicious: packed with the smooth, viscous goo of the fruits, squeezed like marmalade into the fluffy flour. Not too dry, not too saturated - just about the right amount of sweet, sugary goodness, all topped with a crispy baked top and dusted with seeds. For a moment it felt as though Heaven's bakery might be missing a batch.

And now it's gone, and just for a moment the world feels a lot better.

I wonder if they'll have them again tomorrow...