As someone who writes about CBD a lot for High Times and other publications, I get samples sent to me for every kind of crazy CBD-infused or themed thing you can imagine. Some of the items I’ve randomly discovered on my doorstep include CBD-infused olive oil, bitters, lotions, gummy treats, pajamas, candles, tinctures, soaps, pet drops and pet treats, pain balm, under-eye goop, lip gloss, and seltzer water, to name just a few. I admit to being titillated by the barrage of products that come my way, and I’m always excited to try the various creative combinations of CBD and whatever it’s infused in. But when sent me two jars brimming with CBD-instilled vegan cake, they took the cake.

Upon opening the first tiny mason jar made by the brand Canna Cake Babes, I was delighted by the presentation of a glass container jammed full of white cake and covered in a colorful flurry of sprinkles. Who doesn’t love rainbow sprinkles? If you disagree, email me so we can schedule a time and place to fight. The first bite of the vanilla-flavored cake in a jar transported me back to a third-grade fascination with bubble-gum flavoring (lip gloss, ice cream, scratch n’ sniff stickers). It reminded me of how much that taste differs from actual bubble gum, yet always also remains partially true to it. I usually find white cake to be disappointing, but this time, it was jarringly delicious.

The second container was loaded with a rich and decadent chocolate cake. It resembled a fudge-y iced brownie smashed into a bottle. It was very good, better than I expected cannabis-laced cake in a jar to be. I turned the mug around to peruse the ingredients, but was only allowed to know that the cake contained soy, nuts, wheat, and hemp-derived CBD. Perhaps they were protecting a proprietary ancient family vegan CBD cake in a jar recipe.

I would have loved to have analyzed the chocolate icing with a little bit more accuracy, but I let my husband help himself to a bite, and he scooped it all off in one spoonful, like some kind of serial killer. Who eats cake like that? His review of “It’s just OK” seemed harsh coming from a person with a dog-like affinity towards almost every kind of food. Little did he know, all the CBD is in the 14 customizable flavors of cake and not in the 13 customizable icings or 7 various toppings, so the joke was on him.

Plus, he clearly has little experience eating cake. I mean, I love the guy, but to him, consuming most foods amasses to opening his gullet, smashing it, folled by a rough maceration until it’s a ball of gooey paste. But that’s not how I eat cake; I take my time with it. Cake and I have a special relationship. It involves patience. Appreciation. Gentleness. Sensitivity. Eating a lot of it. If the 10,000 hours rule has any bearing, I might be a master of cake eating; a cake sommelier.

After three bites of the jailed confection, I thought I could feel the effects of the CBD. Then I wondered if perhaps it was a sugar rush that I was experiencing. Finally, due to the unpleasantness of the sensation, I realized it was definitely an allergic reaction to one or more of the ingredients. My tongue had a tickling, burning sensation in the middle-back. My lips felt rubbery and almost itchy, as did the roof of my mouth. It was reminiscent of when I was in college and would eat a cheesesteak sandwich from Philadelphia’s infamous Geno’s Steaks at 2 AM after attending a Jamiroquai concert, or some other such rock band of the time. My lips would itch like crazy, and I couldn’t quite figure out why. I imagined I was just drunk, or maybe I had imagined the lip itch. Years later, it occurred to me that I had been allergic to some element of the disgustingly delicious sandwich.

And thank goodness I am allergic to something in those jars full of wonderfulness, as well, or else I’d singlehandedly be responsible for emptying a case of glass jars full of CBD cakes a week because it was that good.

The glass pastry globes hung around in my refrigerator for a little over a week. Allergic or not, I returned to them about once a day to spoon out a bit of attitude adjustment, gobble down a quick sugar fix or revel in a nibble of energy burst. It hit the spot for any mood I’m wont to summon up. But at 500 calories per jar, it’s advisable to eat them using my “one spoonful at a time over the course of a week” method versus my husband’s “this could be my last meal” style, both for fitting into jean’s sake, and also because at $19.99 a pop, it reduces the cost to a mere $2.85 per CBD-licious bite.