Back to Creating: German Chocolate Cupcakes

I’ve been quite busy, in case you didn’t notice.  And the last update was about how burnt out I’ve been feeling.   So I’ve been looking for new things to do, ways to help change the world.  I am pushing uphill to try to feel more and feed people less.  But cupcakes are still a way that I’ve been feeding people. 

Living near a real German woman has made me question things.  Like how to say streusel.  She started yelling at me in German on Easter because I said it a certain way.  I still haven’t found out what she was shouting at me.  I also question why these are called German Chocolate cupcakes.  But I made them.

The batter was tasty, but I don’t really like coconuts.  Or pecans.  But I toasted the pecans myself.  And I made the Coconut-Pecan frosting.  They were well-recieved.  Some people, smart people, actually knew what they were.  Otherwise I was left mumbling things about Germans and chocolate and coconut and nut allergies. 

Perhaps I could have cut a little neater, dried the frosting a bit more, strategically places the pecans to show the beauty of the frosting, but I figured they were meant to be eaten.  And my sister agreed, even if she doesn’t like coconut either.  (Could it be genetic?)

I made some more streusel cupcakes on Easter.  I played with puppies.  I played with twin babies.  And I made some pretty delicious food in the past few weeks.  I think I might be switching to cookies when I feel burnt out again.  I might be able to handle that.  We’ll see.  This week, I’ll be watching All American Rejects instead of baking.  Woo! Eighth grade all over again!  (Meet Rosie! :)) 

Don't Judge, Sweet Nostalgia: Betty Crocker's Boxed Cupcakes

I have been feeling burnt out.  I have been feeling tired and sore and sick of work.  I long for the days when I had no worries.  When the money I made went straight into my savings instead of into my checking to be used.  When the only caffeine I drank were the cold, sweet sips from the bottom of my mother’s tea.  When I used to walk around outside at 7AM in my Aladdin nightgown during the summer to find my father.  When the only fighting was the bickering between me and my sister (which I’m glad has since subsided, but it was nice when that was the only kind of fighting). 

When did I learn what passive aggression was?  When did work become something I needed to do instead of what I wanted to do?  When did my big toes become so calloused that I can’t feel them?  When did the weeks start to blend together to the point that three months have passed without me noticing? 

I went back to my old favorites.  I wanted something I loved.   I wanted to sleep.  I wanted easy.   So I bought some fruit, sushi, and boxed cupcakes (the best kind).  I bought canned frosting.  I wanted my childhood.  I wanted my fairy tale.  Fairy tales exist, even if only in my memory.

They were topped with rainbow sprinkles, because who doesn’t remember rainbow sprinkles in their childhood?  They were topped with Betty Crocker chocolate frosting.  They were nostalgia.  It was wonderful.  I ate three.  I took days off.  I will recover, just slowly.  I miss my friends.  

It Did Not Catch Fire: Pineapple Amaretto Cupcakes

The choice was not mine.  Like many things in life, I could not find something that interested me this week, so I let someone else choose.  I also made them on Sunday instead of Saturday.  The chosen cupcake included liquor I don’t care for, with many kinds of almonds, and pineapple.  The gentleman chooser has since decided that he is most definitely allergic to almonds. 

It was a fun new thing to try though. Although, if I could go back and do things over, I’d make sure my amaretto could flambé and the pineapple was ready before I warmed up the sugar.  You live, you learn.  I did get to try the amaretto my aunt made me for Christmas once though. 

They were topped with really plain whipped cream, so we added a little vanilla and some sugar.  Had I not been afraid that he was allergic to almonds, I probably would have halved the vanilla and added a little bit of almond extract, but anaphylactic shock is scary to me. 

They look pretty.  Not as pretty as Martha’s, but I can handle this.  I also ran out of time.  So many problems.  But they were nice to look at.