Mum and Aunty Jane’s Birthday Cupcakes

The main attraction for any birthday is the cake, specifically the one with the candles and the theme tune.  As these had already been taken care of I had an excuse to make cupcakes, the younger sister of the birthday cake.  This discussion of younger sisters is particularly appropriate as my mum and aunt have birthdays two years and a day apart.  To register both birthdays separately (because siblings born at similar times hate being lumped together) I decided to make two different types of cupcakes.  For my mum, I stuck with the classic strawberry cheesecake cupcakes, while for my aunt I chose decadent chocolate cupcakes with chocolate icing.

Having made the strawberry cheesecake cupcakes several hundred times (OK, twice, but you are probably sick of hearing about how yummy they are by now), I will just say that they were, of course, from The Hummingbird Bakery Cookbook and were decorated with digestive crumbs topped with almost alarmingly red quartered strawberries.  They were a nice alternative to chocolate (not something I have ever needed personally, except for a particularly torturous Lent, which put me religion entirely) and just as messy to make and delicious to devour as ever.

Although I was set on chocolate cupcakes I wanted to add a girly touch.  Decoration often provokes tricky decisions for me, due to my dislike of, firstly, throwing sprinkles on things like a child who has had too much sugar (I am sure there is skill to this, but mine is undeveloped), and secondly, inedible decorations (what is the point?).  Eventually, after much meditation on the matter, I decided to use the bright pink sprinkles I used for the Pink Vanilla Cupcakes.  Typically girly: undoubtedly; Edible: of course; Sprinkles: huh?  At the great but strangely named Meatloaf once crooned, two out of three ain’t bad.  There was, however, a problem.  I couldn’t find any in the great baking haven that is Amersham Tesco.  So that plan went out of the window, and instead, I bought chocolate vermicelli (definitely edible) and some odd-looking pink things, which looked dubiously like dyed chocolate buttons but which promised to taste like strawberry.

I used the chocolate cupcake and icing recipe from The Hummingbird Bakery Cookbook and waited for the cakes to cool before slathering on as much icing as the moist sponge would hold.  The icing was quite thick and cold, which made it hard to manipulate without damaging the cake.  I filled a mug with boiled water, and left the pallet knife in there to warm up.  This made it easy to smooth the icing into a more respectable dome-like shape.  I put about a tablespoon of vermicelli into a bowl and dipped the top of the cupcake until there was a reasonable layer.  I topped this off with a (genuinely strawberry) pink button dipped into the icing.

Having successfully affected their transport from my dad’s house to my grandma’s (which involved a crate, change of driver and some careful pot-hole avoidance), I put them in a cool place to wait until the evening.  I displayed them on the cake stand my aunt had brought me for Christmas, which thankfully made them look much better than the crate had.

 The final result was that the birthday cakes were rather neglected, although I suspect the familial pressure may have had some sway in this.  I am, however, pretty sure that the yummy noises were not entirely theatrical, and I know Mum and Aunty Jane appreciated the gesture.  The cupcakes may not have had candles or their own musical fanfare, but the personal touch, large quantities of icing and a healthy dose of family love and pressure meant they were a welcome addition.

Pink Cupcakes for the Blues

With the weekend’s chocolate chip muffins reduced to a few crumbs and an extra layer of insulation, a long and cake-less day loomed before me.  In the four and a half hour gap between lectures, I had to cram in writing an article, reading the text for the lecture, making and eating lunch and some mindless procrastination. Time was not on my side, but my need for cake overpowered my ability to think clearly. I scavenged through my fridge and baking box and found that I had the ingredients for The Hummingbird Bakery’s mouth-wateringly sweet vanilla cupcakes.

I also found a new toy, purchased on Friday and yet to be unleashed on unsuspecting cakes: food colouring.  Bright pink and bright blue kid-in-a-candy-store food colouring.  The bottle, rather handily, came with a sensible lid which allowed only one drop at a time to prevent any pink and blue colour explosions happening.  I mixed six drops of hot pink colouring with the mixture, paused, and added some more.  I was determined that this time these cakes would be undeniably, definitely and positively pink inside.

The picture does not do the pinkness justice; the colour would have made a Barbie convention look shamefully pasty.  The colour did, however, cause a bit of confusion; on biting into it, one found oneself  thinking two things: ‘Mmm, vanilla’ and ‘Why is this cake pink but does not taste like strawberry?’ I like the colour; it was girly and fun just as I had planned. Next time, however, I think I will go for a strawberry-flavoured pink cake, because sometimes expectations are too ingrained and sensible to deny.

The other colourful fun was the blue icing. This did not go quite to plan. It is difficult to mix icing sugar in a bowl without covering the kitchen in a thin but persistent coating of fine, snow-like sweetness, which is tasty and decorative but not universally appreciated. As such, the butter and sugar were not blended as well as they should have been. Also, I threw milk in without checking the amount, because sometimes when you are making icing, your rebellious spirit kicks in and tells you ‘to hell with this need for exactness’. Turns out that although the rebellious spirit knows how to make delicious blue goo, it does not know how to make icing which is not incredibly runny when piped. The piping itself needs work, but the addition of a special pink (purple) Smartie hid this rather well, or at least distracted from it.

Sadly the cakes were not finished in time for me to take them to my last lectures. I had to make do with a massive, overpriced blueberry muffin.  However, I am pleased with the way these turned out; sweet, fun and topped with a special Smartie, they appeal to the inner child that sometimes need appeasing with cake, chocolate and confusing food colouring.

Pink Vanilla Cupcakes

My sister's university friend is visiting and I thought cupcakes would be a nice welcome.  Rather than do something unusual which she might not like, I decided to keep it simple and opted for vanilla cupcakes with vanilla icing, both from The Hummingbird Bakery: cupcakes and muffins, by Tarek Malouf and the Hummingbird Bakers.

  However, on further thoughts, cakes made entirely of vanilla, the cake equivalent of whitewash, seemed a bit dull.  Rather than change the taste, I gradually added a few drops of red food dye to the cake mix.  I don't know about other people. but my mum has 'issues' with rightly coloured food (she claims it is a natural response as these are associated with poison, but I think is an excuse for being fussy).  As such, it may be worth not dying your cakes, say, bright blue, unless you are sure you will be feeding more broad-minded people.  I didn't put too much in, and only added it very gradually, until the mixture was pink.  It is not entirely clear in the pictures, but the inside of the cakes are very light pink.  I would probably have wanted it a stronger pink, but they look pretty in real life and at least my mum was happy.

Although they can be used to good effect, I don't really like using hundreds and thousands because they remind me of when, as a child, I would bury bowls of ice cream and tiny fairy cakes in them.  While at the time I probably appreciated this, I want to move on to more sophisticated decorating methods.  So I covered these in pink sparkles.  In the name of colour co-ordination, of course.

For a sparkly, girly treat, you can't go far wrong with sweet pink vanilla sponge and a glittery sugar topping.