Monday, November 14, 2011

Call me cupcake

Everyone likes to see the decay of a superstar.  Take Britney.  Or Lindsay.  Or, to avoid being completely sexist, Tiger.

Me?  I'm looking forward to the fall of the cupcake.  Look, I have nothing against mini-desserts.  I live for Reese's peanut butter cups and those sea salt brownie bites at Trader Joe's.  But if I want cake, I'll have it sliced, on a plate, with a fork and a proper frosting ratio.  Like a mother fucking adult.

Besides, these things are expensive to buy, and I am unemployed.  For the four dollar price of a cupcake, I could get an 18 oz. coffee with an extra shot.  Or two glazed donuts.  Or a million McNuggets.

So even though I would not typically post something this mundane, I couldn't help testing the red velvet recipe in my Miette cookbook.  Their cupcakes are decorated the old-fashioned way with a meticulously formed glossy mound of boiled icing, topped with a Boston Baked Bean candy.  They're so perfect, they don't look real.  I had to try it out myself, substituting with cream cheese frosting and the discs used by Sprinkles.

I'll spare you photos of the process since red gel food coloring is wretched, staining stuff and will make any kitchen look like a crime scene.

Here's hoping that the "next cupcake" will be soft pretzels.

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