What draws most journalists to the news business is the Big Story. The political scandal, the murder scene, the win in overtime. But every once in a while we get to work on a story that really hits home.

"Let's see who has the best cupcakes in the town."

It seemed like a good idea for a food story. Cupcakes are everywhere. I'm a fan and was determined that this piece would come to fruition. Along the way, I drove my colleagues in the Features department crazy with my excitement.

Every day, something different fueled my fire. A cupcake stand I bought on clearance. Cupcake decorating books. Blue and white tulle for a photo shoot. My colleagues laughed and started sending me cupcake blogs, pictures and stories. I squealed with joy, I was obsessed and having a blast.

There were major staff discussions about how to do the tasting. I suggested we run it like the famous Westminster dog show -- breaking cupcakes into categories, then pushing the winners forward to the "Best in Class." My colleagues pointed out that I watch too much "Animal Planet" and needed to get a life.

With that idea rejected, food editor Bob Batz Jr. called upon the services of Chef Jeffrey P. Ward, dean of patisserie and baking at the Pennsylvania Culinary Institute's Le Cordon Bleu program. He suggested we use a small group of students for the test.

They would use four criteria: overall appearance, cupcake flavor, icing flavor and texture. Two cupcakes, chocolate and vanilla, would come from our chosen bakeries. We would score four categories, with the highest possible score being 100.

But whose cupcakes to include? I made a list of contenders and sent an e-mail to PG writers and editors about the Great Cupcake Smackdown. One thing we have mastered here is eating. On most days, you can wander the halls and take advantage of a great cake, the latest chocolates, leftover appetizers, cheese, crackers, gourmet gumballs -- and low-cal snack packs.

We decided on a baker's dozen from 13 bakeries of note. Then the reality of getting fresh cupcakes from these bakeries at the same time hit. Co-workers offered to be runners and some took bribes of free cupcakes.

On the morning of the test, I quickly made my way through the drizzle to Shadyside and the North Side. At each stop, my sweet tooth seduced me.

When I arrived at work, my South Beach Diet had gone south. I had consumed a cheese tart and half a slice of carrot cake from Prantl's, washed it down with vitamin water from Whole Foods and carted back an assortment of green sugar cookies, mini-tarts filled with fruit, chocolate and custard, petits four, an organic peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch -- and, oh yeah, two dozen assorted cupcakes.

At 9:30 a.m., the Features department was in full cupcake sampling mode, thanks to one runner who decided to spring for three dozen "because we need them." I added my goodies to the feast and began to field the deliveries and make cash reimbursements for the taste test.

At 11 a.m. we headed to the school, located in the Omni William Penn Hotel. Our contingent consisted of photographer Lake Fong with cameras and video equipment, reporter L.A. Johnson, Bob Batz and me, with 13 bakery boxes, cupcake stand, labels, pens and an armful of tulle.

The classroom kitchen had three huge stainless-steel tables, and I set up house on the center table. I lined up 26 labeled plates in pairs and started setting out cupcakes, which turned chaotic when the photographer started videotaping close-up shots of my moving hands and the food editor was over my shoulder asking questions. Meanwhile, I just wanted to make sure I had the right cupcake on the right plate!

Twenty minutes into the tasting, the entire room cracked up when he teacher asked the weary students, "Are your teeth feeling gritty yet?"

A student asked for more water and said that she has a newfound respect for him. "Just wait," he said. "Next week, you have to bake cupcakes for class."

After an hour of blind tasting, the votes were in and a winner was declared. I fussed with the photographer over cupcake placement and tulle, angles and smeared icing. We left some cupcakes behind and called the newsroom for a ride that was secured only by the promise of first dibs on the leftovers. I was sticky from icing and wanted a shower. It was only 2 p.m.

Back at the paper, I was met with a mini-mob seeking leftovers. The sugar high in the department got scary. I passed out a few to gain my freedom and left the rest on another desk, where they disappeared in minutes.

Getting the story into print was another trial: It went through numerous layouts, edits and changes. But when finally published in Sunday's On the Go section (under the headline "Who Makes the Best Cupcakes in Pittsburgh?"), it fulfilled my prediction and took top position as the most e-mailed story on post-gazette.com. It stayed there until Monday afternoon and also turned up on some cupcake blogs. When I told the food editor the news, he said, "Cupcakes totally rock."

Yes, they do. I decide that I'm called to eat, not bake, cupcakes -- and that's fine with me. I'm off to the bakery.