Ass Cakes

I know it's not Saturday, but work has been heinous all week, and I seriously needed some culinary therapy.  So, it was finally time for me to bust out the Mojito cupcakes.


I was pretty excited about these.  I figured they would be fluffy and lime-minty with a hint of rum.


I've taken to calling them ass-cakes.

I'll start the story of the ass-cakes by stating maybe I should have known better.  My mom bought me an adorable looking book.  A cupcake Bakery Murder Mystery.  It's super cute with cupcakes on the front and the character is a single 34 year old , just like me, and I was stoked.  But the story was kinda... blah.  Generic.  It was cute, but it wasn't great.  And the cupcake talk actually got in the way of the murder mystery.  So with that in mind, the recipes in the back should have screamed "Danger, Will Robinson!"

But I was totally into the idea of mixed drink flavored cupcakes.   My friend Jessica's fiance makes a white Russian cake that is amazing.  How could lime, mint and rum go bad?

Here's the recipe.  I obscured it to protect myself from lawsuits.  I also used my cell phone because the ass cakes didn't deserve me going to find the real camera.

The invisible ingredient is apparently the dirty sweat gland of a monkey's butt

So, I got everything all together, and I set to reading the recipe twice.  Because if you check twice, you don't have mishaps.  Like the time I exploded a red velvet cake in the oven.  Exploded red velvet cake dripping from an oven rack makes it look like a crime scene, by the way.

I did EVERYTHING by the book.  EVERYTHING.  And it smelled so good.

I was even proud of how I zested a lime.  Without getting lime on my skin.  I couldn't wait for the first batch to come out.

I'd whipped up the most incredibly perfect butter cream of my life.  It was fluffy, and had nice peaks and would have frosted and crusted perfectly.  I was going to swirl with a star tip and garnish with a mint leaf, too... Here it is.  I made it a very soft green, because I thought it would be lovely, aesthetically.

 

It tastes as light and fluffy as it looks.  And rum flavored, too.

  I waited till the cupcakes had cooled, and I snagged one.  I peeled back the wrapper, and I was a bit disappointed.  There was no light fluffiness.  There was... an unleavened biscuit look to it.   And it was stuck to the wrapper.


I tried not to be concerned.  maybe it would be dense and rich and delicious.  They smelled really good.  I caught up some butter-cream and slapped it on and took a bite.

This is a mini-cupcake.  What does it say that I couldn't eat anymore?

Once upon a time (last week) I put on some hand sanitizer.  I was talking and distracted and I gestured to my lips and got sanitizer on them.  The taste of the sanitizer in comparison to this cupcake was like a fine French pastry compared to a Little Debbie snack cake that a dog had eaten then pooped out.

I'll just say, there's a similar punchline to the story where I mistook deodorant on my finger for powdered sugar from my doughnut.  (Wow, I have no shame to admit these things.)

"Maybe," I thought, "Maybe my taste buds are off because I was chewing on spearmint leaves."  So I innocuously took a cupcake to my mother.  "Hey, wanna try this?"

I waited while she tok a bite, and then I saw the look flicker across her eyes.  "Dear God, I just bit into the anal gland of a hippo.  How do I not hurt Robyn's feelings.  Do I have to swallow this?  Can I talk through the crap in my mouth and still sound like a supportive mother?"

I asked her, "It's terrible, right?"

She agreed.  But said the frosting was delicious.  It really was delicious.  I sealed it up and plan to use it again.

As for the cupcakes:

están en la basura

At least I'm perfecting the butter-cream method.

My Russian Roulette Love for Lemons

First of all, a confession.  I didn't bake on Saturday.  There are lots of reasons.  The major one is personal.  I have a Neuralgia issue I occasionally deal with.  And this week it's been awful.  I'm not saying this for sympathy, because I pretty much wanna cut anyone who pities me

Am I gonna have to cut a bitch?

out of a fierce sense of independence and a "don't ever pity me for I am always awesome" mentality I picked up from attending an all-girls college.  I'm just accepting and admitting there will be valid reasons for not baking.  And I'm gonna be upfront about them, whether they be health related or, you know, because Harry Potter Saturday is not to be truncated for anything as silly as cupcaking.

(The truth is, with my level of pain, somewhere on a 6, and my tolerance level for pain which resindes around a 1, I wanna cut someone or something anyway, so pity away.)

I did, however, bake today.  a box mix of lemon poppy seed muffins.  For quick breakfasting on work days.



It was a good mix. 

please say that out loud in the same manner as "it was a good death" from Legends of the Fall.

All the dudes reading got this reference.

but it has this weird glaze stuff.  And it's no good.  or, if you're familiar with the female version of The Odd Couple, it's nougat.  So, if I ever make it again, I'll add the glaze to the mix instead of putting it on top of the cooked product.  I might even doctor the mix with some lemon zest, or straight up lemon pulp.  For an extra zing.

I loooooooooooooooooooooooove Lemons.

Here is the thing about lemons.

 About 3 or 4 years ago... time is relative, really, I ended up in the emergency room at Memorial Northwest Hospital with an acute idiopathic allergic reaction.  I have to admit, I didn't mind this reaction for two reasons.  I got off work early, and, for three or so glorious hours, I had luscious Angelina Jolie lips, instead of my teeny-tiny ones.  But having a reaction to something was weird.  Over time, I talked to my Nurse Practitioner about it, and we've narrowed down the acute attack along with some other allergy related symptoms to one culprit.  Citrus.  oh Citrus.

Credit: http://vilakins.dreamwidth.org/

So, armed with this knowledge what do I do?  I adore lemonade.  I use cilantro lime dressing.  I even occasionally eat a piece of Orange (though that seems to be the citrus with the most painful impact.)  I take allergy pills in a preventative method and down the delightfully delicious fruits I adore.  Knowing that this ended me up in the ER, I continue to enjoy it...

The thing is citric acid is in practically everything.  Everything good, anyway.  So I figure, life is already killing me, I might as well live on the edge.

In fact, next weekend, I might just be zesting limes.  Though, I imagine I'll wear gloves.


I "illustrated" this blog, since I didn't bake this week.  Try not to hate it.

Also, this wasn't entirely off-topic.  I mentioned cupcakes.  Just now.

I am just like everyone else

Today I discovered I am just like everyone else.

I decided to follow other cupcake bloggers this evening.  For inspiration and motivation.  I discovered at least 15 cupcake blogs dedicated to a weekly cupcake baking.  And all of them are fancy with really pretty pictures.  And I can't compete with that.  So I won't even try.  Because as much as this is about the cupcakes, this is about documenting something I'm doing for myself.  I want to look back and see if I can trace a tangible personal growth.  Or maybe at least see if my photography and piping has improved.

Another reason I am tracking down cupcake blogs is to find a vanilla-wintergreen cupcake recipe.  I cannot find one.  I found some pink wintergreen glaze frosting, but I don't want glaze.  I want a cupcake that tastes like a wint-o-green lifesaver.   For my next epic cupcake project.

After Mojito cupcake Saturday, I plan to make a Fire and Ice Cupcake Saturday.  The flavors will be chocolate cinnamon and vanilla wintergreen.

Today I didn't cupcake.  I had a wedding shower to attend.  It was my responsibility as bridesmaid to provide cheese cubes and deviled eggs.

Since the colors are black and purple, I had a "genius" plan to make the deviled egg filling purple.

Have I ever mentioned that I am not a domestic goddess?  I never paid attention to any kitchen related anything.  So, I used frosting dye to tint the yolk filling a muted lavender.  I put a black olive ring on the top of each piped egg (large star tip to make swirly flutes, by the way).

After the eggs were on the serving table for about 30 minutes, they turned into a weird brown.  If you bit into them, they were still lavender inside.  So, note to self, deviled eggs brown like guacamole.  Add a pinch of citric acid next time.

Also, I just feel like there are two things I said in public today that I should probably document.

Thing One: "No, Seriously.  I love Donnie Wahlberg so much I have a residual crush on his little brother."
Thing two: "Shallot Pepper is so good, I just pour it in my hand and lick it off."

Strawberry Orange Cupcakes and Triple Chocolate with Caramel Frosting Cupcakes

First, I need to be less "off the cuff" when I cupcake.  More on this later.

This Saturday I made Strawberry orange cupcakes and Triple Chocolate Cupcakes with Caramel frosting.

First the chocolate.

I started with Duncan Hines Decadent Triple Chocolate Cake mix.  This is a two part mix with a chocolate cake, and a fudge mixture with chocolate chips to drop in.  I used the standard box mix substitutions.  Use always milk instead of water.  Always add an egg.  Always use butter instead of oil.  And, Paula Dean taught me to add 4 tablespoons butter.  (This turns a box from two rounds into three rounds, fyi)

This resulted in, what my sister termed "The best chocolate cake batter I've ever licked off a beater."

I always make mini cupcakes.  Minis make more to share around.  They also make it easier for people to accept.  It's hardly a huge piece of cake, so people will eat a mini cupcake with a smile.  In order to fill the cupcake liners without having to tediously spoon into them, I fill a pastry bag with the batter and squirt it into the liners.  So much easier than spooning.  Especially since this recipe required spooning the fudge mix into the batter.  The box yielded 48 mini cupcakes

Once I had the cupcakes cooked off, I busted out the frosting.  I didn't want to choco-coma anyone, so I chose caramel frosting.  I had Duncan Hines Creamy home style caramel frosting.  It was truly creamy and not very pipeable.  So I attempted basket weaves anyway, just to practice the basket wave.  I did that for 12 cupcakes.  Then smoothed on the rest.

Then I headed out to the family for feedback.  Mom enjoyed it.  Grandfather loved it.  But he's a chocoholic.  Sister loved the cake but said the frosting was gross.  I tried the frosting. It's less of a caramel.  It tastes more butterscotch than caramel. It wasn't the perfect match.  I boxed up a dozen and a half to take up to church, boxed a few to take to the brothers at their man-cave and started in on the Strawberry cupcakes.

I had a box of Pillsbury Strawberry moist supreme cake mix.  I decided I wanted to make it a little more flavorful.  I squeezed two oranges so I had orange juice.  The mix calls for 1 1/3 cups water.  So I put 2/3 cups orange juice and 2/3 cup milk.  Then I did the 4 egg butter for oil plus butter substitutions and loaded my pastry bag.  I filled 7 dozen mini cupcake liners.  and I began to bake them.

This is where I realized I should plan ahead.  I didn't have any powdered sugar to make butter cream.  I did have Pillsbury strawberry frosting.  This frosting is pretty tasty and suprisingly pipeable.  But i'd had visions of little pink and orange flowers on the cupcake tops.  I also had no gel coloring.  So I had to improvise.

I'd intended to go see X-Men last weekend, but it was preempted.  I bought a box of chewy Lemonheads and Friends to sneak into the theatre (I know.  I'm an awful person).

So, when the cupcakes were cool, I piped little petals and stuck a chewy fruit sour in the center.

The strawberry cupcakes were popular because they were so "cute".  Also, since they weren't coated in frosting they weren't as sweet.  Everyone loved them, though notably, Grandfather preferred chocolate.  See note: Chocoholic.

I don't think they were super successful.  There wasn't as orange a flavor as I would have hoped.  They were super buttery, though

What I learned for next time:

-Plan Ahead, have supplies on hand.
-Never try to pipe "creamy" Duncan Hines frosting
-Don't give sister caramel frosting
-use less butter when adding orange juice, because the butter over powers the orange juice - maybe not use the butter in fruity cakes.


Next Cupcake Saturday I'm going to try a recipe I got in a book called "Mojito Cupcakes."  These are a lime/mint scratch cupcake recipe with a rum butter cream frosting.  I have a bridal shower on Saturday to attend, so it's likely my cupcaking will be delayed till after father's day, though I am making deviled eggs for the shower, and I might pipe the filling and post pictures.

Pictures from this weekend:

Always on a quest

Recently, it's come to my attention that I lack a passionate, defined goal in life.  I actually brought this to my own attention.  I noticed I'm a bit flighty with what I want out of life.  I want to be a writer.  I want to make a difference.  I want to feel normal, have a cute husband and adorable kids.  I'd love to be recognized for being awesome on occasion.  I want to feel like what I'm doing is something that makes others happy.

I'm going to spare you my boring unremarkable history.  Instead, I'm going to talk about "South Pacific."  The musical.  That show is pretty great.  There are some awesome songs.  And then there's "Happy Talk."  Which I usually tuned out of.  I always found it silly and superfluous.

About 6 months ago, it was pledge month on the PBS.  They showed a Great Performances production.  I was watching it, and I suddenly heard the lyrics "You've got to have a dream, if you don't have a dream, how you gonna make a dream come true?"

I began to try and pinpoint what my dream is.  I mean, I'm going to be 35 this year.  And I honestly don't have a dream.  I have a few goals.  "Don't suck."  "Don't get too old."

Then last weekend, I Redboxed "Tangled."  And I felt a little chocked up during the part where everyone is talking about their dream.

If you'd asked me when I was in junior high, I would have told you my dream was to be a lawyer.  In high school, I wanted to be Tiffany.  And then after I went gothoGrunge, I wanted to be a slam poet.  In college, somewhere, I stopped dreaming and started just focusing on having "goals."  Which got me a degree.  And a job.  And where I am today.  But each time I set them, they weren't lofty.  They weren't powerful or dramatic.  They were just "get a paycheck."  "Buy a car."  "Try not to look your age."  "Don't disappoint people."

There's another part of the story that needs to be told, too.  About a month ago, something violent and traumatic happened to my family.  I almost lost two siblings.  And I did loose a sense of security and complacence.  That's important for later on.

So, there's been a small, quiet journey I've been on during 2011.  The journey to redefine my dreams.  And through them, who I want to be.  I've undertaken some massive projects.  I wrote two books.  I volunteered to plan and run a VBS.  I've introspected to discover where it is I'm blissful.

And that leads me to this blog.  There are three things I love.  I love writing.  Even if it's just about what I did today.  I love singing.  Truly love  If I was told tomorrow I could never sing again, I would probably cease to exist.  And I love baking.

Writing makes sense, I've always had constant ADHD type thoughts and they fill my brain and must come out somehow.  Writing actually relieves a pressure I sometimes feel building up.  I go write something and it's like I stopped the boiler in the basement from exploding for a while.

Singing is something I'm confident i do well.  About the only thing I'm 100% sure I do well on a consistent basis.  So of course, I'd enjoy it.

And baking is the most amazing thing ever.

I am a very emotional person.  Almost histrionic, if you were to ask my family.  Right now, things are a little crazy, hectic and ridiculous.  I still have random PTSD moments relating to the aforementioned trauma.  And I feel like a maelstrom inside.  It makes me edgy and bitchy to people.  I spend my days surrounded by whining, sniping 3 and 4-year-olds.  I am getting super close to a milestone birthday and I'm starting to feel like I'm going to die single and alone with lots of cats around me.  All of this is cycloning inside my head where I'm already mildly dramatic and it doesn't make for fun times.  But I've discovered that when I bake, when I fold and blend and cream and create something delicious, those yucky feelings abate.  It's like I can use them to fuel a passion for cooking.  Like I can be Tita from "Para Aqua Por Chocolate."  Instead of barking at people and losing my temper, I make cupcakes.  And they're good.  Mostly.  And I feel better when I'm done.  Almost happy even.

So, I made a goal to blog about baking, mostly cupcakes.  It's not incredibly lofty.  Yet.  But I need to start small.  And it's not like I can write songs about cupcakes and sing them on the radio.  So, I'll blog.

I'm going to bake on Saturdays.  At least two batches.  And I'm going to record it here.  So that I have: a.) a place to keep a record and b.) a public accounting that my life isn't just getting up and going to work.

That maybe I'll be able to create and make people smile and enjoy doing something.

This blog isn't going to make me 22 again.  It probably won't restore my idealism.  It's not likely to make me feel normal, but it might make me feel like my special brand of abnormal is okay.  It won't find me a husband (I'm resigned to having to order one on the internet from Lower Slombovia or something).  But it might get me recognized for the random and occasional awesomeness.  And people are always smiling when you give them baked goods.  So I'll feel like I'm spreading a little joy.  And it's a place to write.  So my brain won't overload.

So that's why this blog exists.  I don't know if you made it through, or if you care or any of it, but there it is.  Baking Saturdays.  Posts to follow.  Pictures and successes and failures.  Cupcakes.  And maybe, through the outlets I'm going to utilize, I'll find a passion in there somewhere.  A dream.

maybe my dream is to find a dream.  I think I'll start there.