I Baked Some Cupcakes for You

Those of you who’ve been around here a while will understand how funny that title is. You don’t see me plunging into big baking projects much, do you? Generally, when I see one of those amazing-looking intricate dessert recipes (like this or this or this), the first thought that comes to my mind is: I wish someone would make that for me.

My second thought: Is there somewhere I can buy that?

I am fairly lame when it comes to baking sweets, it is true. Bread I can handle—I quite like it, in fact—but when it comes to elaborate dessert, best to look elsewhere.



Which is why it’s so funny that I baked cupcakes. Especially since I recently said I was over the whole cupcake thing. There are adorable—I’ll give you that—but I rarely want more than one bite. Cupcakes are usually a one-note flavor, and mostly I find them too sweet. I know there are plenty of cupcake-lovers who will disagree with me, but I think cupcakes get by mainly on their looks.

Oh, and the icing. The icing is key.



Given all that, I still made cupcakes. If you can believe it.

It was a recipe I had seen three years ago. True to form, I wondered who I could get to bake them for me. This is not entirely laziness on my part; mostly it’s a desire not to be left alone with an entire batch of cupcakes. I might not love cupcakes, but that doesn’t mean I won’t eat them.



Finally all the stars aligned—a recipe I realized no one was ever going to make for me; the annual Oscars awards show which gave me a gathering of pals on whom to foist my baked goods; and a weekend when I really needed to be distracted from my spinning, worrying, over-thinking brain.

Sometimes you just need to get out of your own head and throw your attention into a big project. In this case it was one of those baking projects that is actually three recipes in one: cupcake batter, filling, and frosting.

Do you see now why I don’t bake elaborate sweet things? Put that much effort into savory cooking and you'd have a full dinner party.

Oh, but it was a doozy of a recipe: Margarita cupcakes (yes, with tequila and triple sec) filled with lime curd and topped with a buttercream frosting. Yowza.



How did it go? Let’s just say that the path to complicated baked goods does not always run straight—at least not for me. I faked a double boiler, by putting a glass Pyrex bowl over a pan of hot water, in order to melt some butter. I've done this before with no problem, but for some reason this time the bowl shattered, sending glass all over the counter and causing me to dump a number of ingredients for fear shards might have lodged in them.

I would have stopped right there, but I already had the batter made and didn't want to have to throw that out too. I soldiered onward, making a new batch of curd and bringing the full count of sticks of butter used in one day to an all time high for me. I couldn't tell you how much butter I went through—I stopped counting—but the pile of wrappers at the end was impressive.



And let’s just say that it’s very good I had several cups of frozen lime juice and citrus zest in the freezer, which made up for the ingredients that had to be tossed. I’m not sure I would have stuck it out had a trip to the store been required, mid-bake. I was getting cranky enough as it was.

If I had half a brain I would have started drinking the tequila, instead of baking with it.



At the end of the day I showed up at the Oscars party late, missing the red carpet portion of the evening entirely. As I rang the doorbell, I was holding the still hot muffin tin I had pulled out of my oven just minutes before.

“You’re bringing new meaning to the term ‘fresh baked goods,’” said Molly when she opened the door to let me in.

“Me and my baked goods need a time out from each other.” I said, flustered from the experience. I put the cupcakes in the kitchen—the closest thing to a dunce’s corner I could find—and went back later to fill and frost them. They annoyed me even further by not turning out very attractive looking. I had thought they would at least be cute—in that cute cupcakey way that Cheryl’s always are. Apparently cupcake cuteness takes skill to replicate. Skill I do not have.



How did they taste? Well, they tasted much better than they looked. The lime curd filling is the key, I think. The curd is tangy and lively, and the mix of curd and light dough made things interesting enough that I didn’t want to stop after one bite. Perhaps this is a cupcake I can get behind after all.



The cupcakes had a nice light crumb, even the half I made gluten-free. I wasn’t happy with the buttercream frosting recipe I found online, but I topped it with lime zest mixed with sugar and a pinch of salt— to add that little Margarita kick—and that was good.

A friend of mine later told me her husband thinks this might be an uptapped direction for cupcake baking and he would like to have a gin and tonic cupcake for his after work enjoyment. You can rest assured that this is not a business plan I will be pursuing.



So yeah, pretty good, but I think my original plan might have been even more brilliant. Whenever I see some glorious dessert recipe, I’m going to find someone else to make it for me, someone who really likes this sort of thing. I don't have the skills, patience, or temperament required. I have great respect for those who do—and I wish they would all open bakeries where I could go and buy these lovely desserts that I’m not willing to make myself.

But boy, gosh, golly was it a good life distraction. With all the flying glass, creaming butter and sugar, and citrus zesting, I completely forgot my worries for the day. Perhaps in the end that is the key to these elaborate baking projects—to step out of life for a brief while, to create something sweet and beautiful that brings people pleasure. Because, really, that was the most fun for me—giving them away to people afterwards, making them smile.

Hey, want a cupcake? I made one just for you.



Here’s the info, if you’d like to make the cupcakes yourself. Beware that this recipe makes a huge mess of cupcakes. You might want to make a half batch. To make them gluten-free, simply sub out the wheat flour for a mix of equal parts sorghum, teff, tapioca, and sweet rice flour (1 1/8 cup each, if you are making a full batch).

Margarita Cupcake recipe from She Craves
I am so delighted that the lovely Vanessa is back to blogging. She's a great writer and knows what tastes good. Her cupcakes are also prettier than mine.

The lime curd recipe I adapted from Mrs. B’s lemon curd recipe (just swap lime juice and zest for lemon). It makes more than you'll need, but my friends were happy to receive jars of curd. It's truly delicious stuff.

As for frosting, I think you’re on your own there. I wasn’t happy with the recipe I tried. If you have any suggestions, I’d love to hear ‘em.

Happy baking—if you're the sort who likes it.