Sometime in early 2001, my husband put down his copy of Peter Singer's Animal Liberation and declared our vegetarianism was not enough — we needed to go vegan.

I was vegetarian when we met, a little over a year earlier, and having finally met someone who could cook, he soon joined me as a fellow vegetarian. Transitioning to veganism seemed a logical (if daunting) next step, and we plunged in.

In brief, our foray into veganism lasted about a year, and to be frank, it pretty much sucked. Part of this was due to circumstance; I was prescribed a drug that left me with no interest in cooking, eating, or even shopping for food. But for the most part, it was because a lot of vegan recipes call for foods I don't find appetizing under the best circumstances. Flax oil, powdered egg substitute, casein-free soy cheese... Nayonnaise? Does anyone eat that if they don't have to?

So, when I saw Strict Vegan Ethics, Frosted With Hedonism among the New York Times top emailed articles this week, I was intrigued. I'd baked a vegan cake once. It was chocolate, with whole wheat flour and Ener-G Egg Replacer powder. We ate it — mostly because it was my husband's birthday cake — but it was less than satisfying.

Below the photo of a hot punk girl offering the camera a cupcake, the article opens:

Isa Chandra Moskowitz, a vegan chef, does not particularly like to talk about tofu. Ditto seitan, tempeh and nutritional yeast.

Wow. If only God had made me a smidge differently, I'm pretty sure I'd be in love right now.

The rest of the piece was a revelation: vegan baking with white flour and no weirdo egg replacements? Could a vegan baked good be, well, good? I had to find out.

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Using the recipe from the NYTimes article, I set out to make these faux-Hostess Cupcakes. Gathering the ingredients was like a culinary high school reunion for me. "Soy milk! Margarine! My old friends! How've you been?"

Anyway. The batter came together pretty quickly:

And within an hour, the cupcakes were done.

That was the easy part. Next, I made the filling, poked my finger into every cupcake, and squirted filling into each one.

As you can see, I had an awful lot of filling left over, which raised my suspicions, but not being that keen on filling, I was okay with that. I made the frosting and the royal icing — while fielding at least a dozen are they done yet? interruptions, from husband and child alike.

Finally, they were frosted, piped with a little squiggle, and yes, done.

I just love the little squiggle, I have to admit. Here it is again:

Before I get to what you're all waiting for — how they tasted — some quick notes on this recipe:

1. It's time consuming. You're not just making cupcakes + frosting. You're making cupcakes + frosting + filling + royal icing. You're filling, frosting, and decorating. It's a project.
2. I had a hard time squeezing enough filling into each cake. Some cupcakes had almost no filling at all. Admittedly, I've got hands like a ten-year-old boy, so maybe I should have poked holes with something bigger.
3. If you're using a plastic storage bag as your pastry bag (as I did), double-bag it — especially when it comes to the stiff royal icing. My (single) bag blew out the side because it was so hard to squeeze out

All of that aside, how were they?

Let me tell you: these cupcakes aren't just huh, vegan, you say? good. These cupcakes are holy shit, you actually made these? good. I don't even like cupcakes, but I ate two of these for dinner — and I'm about to eat a third one now. That's how good they are.

I'm not saying this one cupcake recipe is going to make me consider a return to veganism, but it has — more than a little, I'd say — changed my mind about how purely pleasurable vegan food can be.

As always, for more from me, visit my blog at: http://gezellig-girl.com.