I always went around feeling like a fake domestic goddess. When people would ask me if I knew how to bake, my answer was always, "Of course I can! Huh! What a silly question!" Because the truth is, I can only bake if I read a recipe from a book. I'm not one of those who dont measure ingredients, or can make brownies in their minds eye. Not me. For me it's a science experiment. The measuring cups, the scales, the google converter on my phone to help me to calculate between pounds and grams. But I must say, I have managed to bake cakes without too many problems. I suppose it's because I stick to the one or two recipes I repeat ad nauseum, and maybe also something to do with the fact that I dont actually get around to baking very often. Once every...three months. Maybe.
So when I had hung out with one of my perfect friends one too many times (you know, the sort that makes you want to go home and beat yourself with a belt for being a lazy cow) I decided it was time I started to bake more often. At least so that when people come over there would be pretty yummy things to offer, other than store-bought biscuits. And I decided to make cupcakes so that my infant twins could enjoy a cupcake or two with their milk. So like a scientist, I prepared my counter, organised my ingredients, discovered that I didnt have unsalted butter or a paddle attachment fpr my cake mixer, and got cracking. How difficult could it be to make cupcakes?
It was ridiculously astonishing to discover that I had never actually made any cupcakes. I had eaten plenty, and never thought about how much work went into making them fluffy, or vanilla-tasting. I took out my recipe book, and found a relatively easy recipe. Makes 12. Nope. I want 24, I thought to myself. Then my babies and I (and hubby) can have them all week long. So I decided to double everything.
With the precision of an embryologist sifting through cells, I measured everything using my measuring cups, weighed what didnt have "cup" values on my new electronic scale, measured butter to the last gram, and generally made a big mess of the kitchen. And so, I put the batter for 24 cupcakes into the little paper cups. I stuck everything in the oven and prepared to wait for 15 minutes. I lovingly peered into the oven every few minutes or so and was delighted to see that everything was going swimmingly. And then, at about 8 minutes, I noticed that there was giant crater in every single one of the cupcakes! I decided to ignore that, and wait the entire 15 minutes before opening the oven. When I finally did, what came out were rock hard crater-indented cupcakes. Like gimmicks in a store needing to display something. I was gutted!
The paper stuck to them like glue, and they could seriously concuss if thrown at someone's head. Not wanting to give in, I made a cup of tea and ate stone cupcake in front of my hubby. Being the trooper he is, he asked for a cuppa as well, and oohed and aahed over the taste of the cupcakes. He had two, bless him. 3 down, 21 to go.
The next morning I decided to try them out on my twins. I handed one to each of them, not worrying about crumbs, since everything was rock hard solid, and compacted. Nothing to crumble. They took them in their pudgy little hands, and examined them briefly. My son Billy gave his a tentative lick, and then proceeded to throw it at his sister, Izzy, who took a knock on her arm and promptly started wailing. I scurried off to work, leaving my screaming tots in the care of their nannies. I didnt give up with them though. That afternoon, I arrived home and decided to be wily. My twins had recently taken to imitating the dog and cat. The preferred to eat off the floor like the Jack Russel (named...Jacque. I just couldnt think of a name! And when it came to me and I realised it was so lame, I thought I would french it up), and I had caught my son licking his arms like the cat (named Gloves, for his white paws on a black body). I gingerly placed the rock hard cupcakes on the floor in front of the twins. The walked over to them, crouched down to peer at them, and with a sniff, both rose and started to pulling each other's hair. I gave in and threw all 21 into the bin.
But Im not a quitter! I decided to try again. Although the butter was still salted, and the recipe called for unsalted, I figured it couldnt be a big problem. I decided to stick to the quantity specified. Somehow the logic that doubling everything will make double the amount just doesnt hold. At least not with me when it comes to baking. So 12 cupcakes it was going to be. I happened to have glossed over the fact that my hubby had accidentally bought bread flour instead of cake flour, and my housekeeper had mixed it up with another tupperware of cake flour. Cant be a big deal, I thought. Flour is flour.
I followed the recipe to the tee. My only dismay came when the recipe (another one, by the way), called for me to use a paddle attachment, as opposed to the regular mixing attachment. I panicked and pulled out my manual from my box of manuals (which I keep in an untidy pantry, holding manuals for items that have long since stopped working, including the manual for the Trojan gym machine which now sits outside and is used to dry delicates that cannot be placed in the dryer), and discovered that my cake mixer did not have a paddle attachment. It was a wedding gift from five years ago. I must have gotten the old version. Oh well, I had gone too far to quit now. The butter was softened and already mixed with eggs and sugar, and I would have to plough along.
I completed the recipe and placed them in paper cups and this time what resulted was brownies. The "cupcakes" were just too heavy. They had also spread all over and looked like little pizzas. Fat little pizzas. I was distraught. At least they had not sunken, but they were flat. I pretended to the nannies that I had made something I called "Vanilla Brownies" trying to make an oxymoron of it, which totally went over their heads, by the way, and invited them to have as many as they wanted. They seemed to enjoy them, because when I got home that evening, there were only 4 left. Great! At least I didnt have to throw them out.
There had to be a baker in me somehwere. I was not going to give up. I decided to try again, this time using regular cake flour, which I bought and stored in a labelled bin, and informed the housekeeper not to mix with anything else that was white. Using yet another cupcake recipe, I mixed and splattered batter all over the kitchen counter, and when it looked like it was ready, I spooned the mixture into the paper cups which this time I had remembered to place into a muffin tray. On a whim I decided to sprinkle the cupcakes with Hundreds and Thousands, and with little candy coated chocolate balls, which said were for cupcakes. I stuck the batch in the oven. To my delight, the cupcakes started smelling great, filling the kitchen with a lovely warmth and sweet vanilla scent that filled the entire kitchen and living room space. I removed them from the oven, and was pleased to see that they were springy! Although the candy covered balls had melted leaving a somewhat rainbow design over the cupcakes. No matter, my boos each ate half a cupcake and my hubby ate his without oohing and aahing, letting me know that they were indeed alright tasting.
Satisified, I decided to try yet again, this time with the intention of icing them when I was done. I bought a whole range of sprinkles of all colours and shapes, ones that I knew would delight my babies, and would make me out to be a somewhat domestic goddess. I envisioned them actually turning out like in the pictures in the recipe books. I made the next batch last night, and this time, I left them as they were, plain. While they sat cooling on the rack, I began to make my icing. I have never been proficient with icing. I have never been able to use the icing thingies to make rosettes and cute decorations. But I had them all. I even bought an icing thingy that was so elaborate it came in a box with drawers (drawers I tell you!), and was so fancy that I have never been able to use it simply because it is so complicated, they lost me at the first page of the manual: setting up the thing so that it can be connected to the plug (electronic!). And so it sits in my pantry, looking pretty so that my perfect friends can see that I have all the tools, and therefore must be doing something.
I mixed the icing, and feeling giddy on the springiness of the cupcakes that were now almost completely cool, I decided I would be clever and divide the icing into batches so that I could have different colours. Blue, pink, yellow and green. I iced the cupcakes, sprinkled them with the sprinkles, inlcuding the candy-coated chocolate balls, which I realise in hindsight, was meant to be sprinkled onto icing, and not onto batter that is to be placed in a hot oven. What was I thinking? Then I placed them in the fridge, with instructions to my hubby not to touch any of them. My babies got first pick. In the morning, my babies had awoken early and I rushed eagerly to them, to hug and kiss them, and then take them to the kitchen to have a little treat from mummy. Billy grabbed at one of the cupcakes, delighted with the colour and the sprinkles (ironically he chose the one with the candy coated chocolate balls) and proceeded to lick all the icing off the cupcake, leaving my pyjamas with blue icing, and a couple of sticky candy coated chocolate balls. He then flung the now bare cupcake at his sister, Izzy, who was busy sticking her finger into the icing on her cupcake and painting the floor. Sticky, I rushed off to the shower, satisfied that I had done it! I had made cupcakes at long last and they had turned out alright!
So what have I learnt from this?
Just because you can read does not mean you can bake. Its like gardening and the green thumb. Baking and the buttery thumb.
Paddle attachments are not necessary. I dont even know what a paddle attachment is.
Dont bake cake with bread flower.
It's nice to have a good kitchen scale which makes you feel like a techno freak because its so modern. Oh and it measures too.
Dont put candy coated chocolate sprinkles on batter and be surprised that the chocolate melts in the oven.
Use a muffin tray to place the cupcakes in. Otherwise it all spreads out and there is a potential that you could end up with an unrolled spring roll.
It's ok if your kids dont eat your cupcakes. They are probably full.
Just because my hubby didn't criticize me for having to try four times to get it right, I should probably keep baking for him.
It's ok to hate your perfect friend who makes soft spongy cupcakes from the top of her head. Not really hate, but you know, wish for her to have split ends or something. Just to take away from the perfection.
I'm pretty messy in the kitchen. Luckily I have a housekeeper.
I no longer have to buy cupcakes from the lady who sells them for ten bucks a pop! I can make my own! Hooray!!!
