Cupcakes and tea parties bring out the little girl in an old gal like me.
Cocktails have an hour. Tea time has its time. Sweets can go all day long and into the night, like a midnight snack haunting a good night’s rest. Get up. Be quiet, raid the pantry.
If I told you that I made these sugary flowers, I’d be lying. I picked them up at Trader Joe’s. Someone asked me if they tasted as good as they looked. Do you want an honest answer?
I could make them from scratch, which to me translates to the Duncan Hines box. My frosting skills are always severely challenged. My absurd desire to keep my figure (which gets even more challenged with age) never made a pastry chef out of me.
Even thought I dated two chefs in my life, one master chef among them, I never learned a thing. I also spent years hanging out with French friends who knew how to cook. I learned only one French swear word in that time because that is what came out of the kitchen.
I’m a frosting eating person, an absolute sucker for buttercream. I would eat it over and above all things. If you invited me to a wedding, you’d have to keep me away from the cake. I might run my fingers through those parts of the cake that are not readily seen, except… until… someone noticed. Who did that? Me, not me.
My friend, Elliot, is another frosting fan. Thank God, we now live on separate coasts. We both admit to the wedding cake passion we have. We could be two sneaky fingers in one expensive cake. Wedding cake with custard filling? With lemon filling? With raspberry filling? We don’t fight over filling. We’ve never been invited to attend a wedding together for any number of reasons, but this one would be the end all.
These ready made cupcakes had a dreamy, decorative frosting on them.
I ate one.
I ate all of the frosting on the others. May I save the cupcake cake part as perhaps croutons for something else? Maybe not.
They surely were pretty. Did they taste as good as they looked?