An Experiment with the Same Desired Outcome: Pumpkin Spice Streusel Cupcakes

It was pretty much a year ago when I made these.

The only thing going through my mind was a prayer that went something like this:
             "Pleasepleaseplease let these come out okay. Please let Brenna's intelligence rub off on me and teach me how to add something new to a beloved recipe without messing it up to the point of garbage. Please let these people love these baked goods so much they don't mind me hanging around."

I had decided to take the streusel cupcakes that I loved so much (that I had made more than once in the year prior) and change it. I wanted to White-Girl-Loving-Fall it up, yo! Because who doesn't love a pumpkin spice caramel latter with whipped cream and caramel drizzle?! (News: I don't. Shudder.)

I went to Trader Joe's and found a Pumpkin Spice spice. I figured that I could find a recipe that called for it. I was too lazy. I figured, the streusel cupcakes were so damn good, I would try to bring them to another level. I tried. I was told it worked.

I then packaged them up neatly in an old pizza box and brought them to make friends. They were gone before I fell asleep.

Strangely enough, those friendships and these cupcakes were gone and forgotten almost by the time a year had passed.

I frequently fail at making friends.

A New Home Deserves Baked Goods: Cinnamon Rolls in Shrewsbury

A little more than a year ago, I pulled up my roots that had grown in upstate NY and decided to turn my world upside down, pull my Dansko shoes off, and move to MA to do something with that Clark University BA in Psychology degree that I felt I had worked so hard for (read: SPENT TOO MUCH MONEY ON).

I put all my faith in College Roommate and moved to an apartment I had never seen. My parents moved me in, dropped off my UHaul, bought me essentials and dinner, and left me alone (let's not talk about the visitation rate in Shrewsbury in over a year: ONCE).

I spent the first few days pretty much alone without cable, internet, or a couch. College Roommate already had her job in Worcester and I was waiting to hear back from HelpTheWorld job and waiting for a new week to begin at the restaurant.

What could a bored baker do but somehow make SOMETHING? Keep in mind, uprooting myself meant I left behind all the "shared" baking goods (read: all equipment) because it didn't belong to me.

What I managed to make was delicious and then posted to Instagram (hello, white girl) using Panera or Dunkin wifi due to the fact that I had nothing but hipster music, tea, and an electric kettle.

Change and Cupcakes: Pound Cupcakes and Vanilla Bean Swiss Meringue Buttercream

Change is such a silly things.  So many things cause it and everything is changed eventually.

And change is just. so. constant. 

You can’t really escape it.  You might as well embrace it, right? That’s the saying anyway. 

I can’t tell you if I made anything between Alabama Weekend in ‘Toga and this delicious cupcake or if I’m missing cupcakes in between.  It was a hectic month (September), and that was a long time from now.

I made these cupcakes when Kahina’s twins were still in the US.  I made these cupcakes when I still lived in NY, 10 minutes away from my sister.   I made them before my sister was pregnant, before I quit my jobs, before I had my own dental insurance, before I had an apartment I paid for, before I had a job that helped the world, before I went back to the restaurant I worked at senior year of college, before I had a KitchenAid, before Laura moved back to California, Hannah moved to Australia, Brenna moved to Salt Lake City, before I had vacation time at work, before I moved in with my best friend, before I dated and broke up with a good man, before I kissed a girl I really like.

Like I said, a lot of things change in the world and in my world. 

My love for cupcakes is not one of them.  

I can still remember what happened in the past six or seven months.   So many things, but I feel like it was just September.  How do you blink and a half a year passes?

How do you blink and a crumbly pound cake with vanilla bean buttercream no longer exists in your mouth, but only in your memory? 

I had a discussion with Kahina when I made these.  She thought she was making a joke about opening a bakery and making cupcakes instead of looking for a job or working a job that made money.  I told her that it was a serious desire, something I would do in a heartbeat if debt and logic didn’t bog me down.  As a corporate woman, it was a funny thing.  I’m a funny person.  Not in a “I can make a joke” way, but in a way that who ever I’m talking to doesn’t ever really seem to understand me. 

But they can understand these. 

Gooey Divinity: Peanut Butter Chocolate Brownies

There once was a weekend I got really busy.

It was as though all hell broke loose.

It was called Alabama in Saratoga. 

Then there was the weekend after that I offered to make a cake as a “Bon Voyage” cake for a girl I envied.

I dreamed about going abroad for a year while I offered and realized too late that I wasn’t that interested in doing so.

So I found a recipe and tried my damnedest to make something nice while I simultaneously made a brownie recipe from Martha. 

The cake came out fine.  People ate it and enjoyed it. 

The brownies came out DIVINE (albeit a little too gooey).

Peanut butter and chocolate: the ultimate pair. 

I used a lot of butter:

  

I globbed a lot of peanut butter:

I swirled to my heart’s content:

And then I enjoyed the middle piece of gooey, swirled peanut-butter-chocolate-y-goodness:

Then I ran out the door as quick as I could with a still-melting frosted cake, parked a half mile away from work, and was given many compliments on my serving skills and baking ability.  It was a good day.

The next day was great too, since I had peanut butter brownies for breakfast. 

Stress-Free Three Hours: Mint Chocolate Cupcakes

I applied to a job I really want.  It has to do with my degree (Psychology), it would relocate me to my best friend (they do exist!), and I would FINALLY get some experience so that I can get a job elsewhere.  Also, I am being recommended to it by an employee in the program (you can’t get anywhere without knowing people if you are perfectly average in every way). 

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I stress bake and cook.  I just like to measure things and give it to people.  I don’t have a house to renovate (unless you consider my sister’s my house).  So I wander over to my sisters, use all her bowls and fridges and the stove and I allow my anxiety to be forgotten while I measure cup by cup and concentrate on not burning my skin or cutting off my fingers.  I tend to spill, burn, cut, drop, or generally ruin things if I don’t pay attention.  So I pay attention and forget everything else. 

I needed these this week.  I need to concentrate on perfecting the complex buttercream frosting.  I needed to measure the flour and the salt and all the ingredients.  I needed something to come out perfect.  I needed these. 

I was concentrating so hard that I didn’t have a chance to take pictures.  The only picture is the beautiful cupcake.  But I don’t care.  They were delicious and pretty and people seemed to like them. 

Sometimes, you just need a win.  This was it.

Found My Mind While Traveling: Brownie Cookies with Salted-Caramel Filling

This month has been hectic.  This month is track season.  I’m writing like I am living in the present, but this is a post about the month that has passed that I can look back on and think, “Watdahhell just happened?”  Track season started and I decided to travel.  I decided to put myself upon multiple friends so that I could remember what it’s like to have friends.  I decided to travel across Massachusetts. 

From where I live, I started in West Springfield, MA.  I visited my best friend.

Then I went to Worcester to visit a wonderful person. 

Then I ended up in Boston and met up with my old neighbor and then an old high school friend. 

If I were a better blogger, I would have brought a camera and taken photos of the time I spent in West Springfield laughing at the waitress who slipped and spilled half our food on the ground.  I would have taken photos of the frozen mojito/margarita Ally’s mom gave her (tequila in a mojito mix bucket is considered what?). I would have documented my time spent in the doorway of a dorm talking to an old friend who gave me back my high school class ring.  I would have taken photos of breakfast with someone I can always catch up with.  I would have snapped shots of the beers and the ridiculous amount of options of beers with Nick.  I would have told you about the crazy person I woke up to at 3AM in Allston.  I would have been able to show you all these things, but I was crazy. 

I was so crazy that when I made these cookies, this is the only photo I took.  I took only ONE photo of the entire recipe.  They are brownie cookies with a salted-caramel cream filling.  They were too moist, too delicious, and traveled across the state of Massachusetts.  They were the thank you and parting gifts for every person I visited.  They were delicious.  They were not from Martha. (WHAT?!) And now that I re-read the recipe, after a month, I realize that I did these absolutely wrong and I’m glad they tasted okay.  Maybe I’ll try them again.

Making Do: Snickerdoodles

Sometimes you get lazy.

Sometimes you need to sleep in late. 

Sometimes you have so much on your mind, you forget to look through your planner and find out you have more on your mind than you remember.

Sometimes you just don’t feel like going to the grocery store for ingredients.

Sometimes you just make do.

Sometimes, it’s that you HAVE to make do, but this week was not one of those weeks.  This was a lazy week. A week when I forgot about a lot of things. A week that I didn’t feel like going to the grocery store.  I made do.  I did what I could.  And for many years, I knew this as one cookie I could almost always do, as long as there was enough butter. 

I made snickerdoodles.  I think they’re tasty and easy and a people-pleasing kind of cookie.  They were the favorite of a co-worker.  My chef said it was just like his grandma used to make.  I’m glad they got eaten. 

Then I made a “special” one for my best friend.  It started like a heart, I promise.  Just doesn’t look like it post-bake.