Cupcake Philosophy

Gingerbread cupcakes with lemon cream cheese icing

I am a true cupcake aficionado. I love everything about cupcakes. I love baking them; I love decorating and packaging them. I love eating them and smelling them. I love giving them as gifts to other people, and I even love things that look like cupcakes. I will joyfully spend an entire afternoon crafting the perfect box of cupcakes to take to work, pass out to my children, or enjoy with my husband on the couch as we watch a movie.

I’ve often wondered why it is that I love cupcakes so, and I have a few ideas. It hasn’t anything to do with childhood, as my mother never made cupcakes when I was a child. But it does have to do with wonder. Because, truly, everything about cupcakes is wonderful. Each cupcake can be individually crafted for whomever is going to eat it. If one of my children wants a cupcake with no frosting, he can have that without ruining the experience for everyone else. When the cupcakes come out of the oven, I can pop one into my mouth without marring the appearance of the rest of the batch. Cupcakes are a joyously individual thing; they are just as beautiful and precious on their own as they are in a batch.

Chocolate covered cherry cupcakes with fudge ganache and a maraschino cherry.

Perhaps one of my favorite things about cupcakes is the ease with which that luscious word “Assorted” can be thrown into the mix. I can make two dozen assorted cupcakes with only a bit more effort than required to make two dozen of the same. Because of their size and their individual wrappings, I can make several different kinds of cupcakes at a time, experimenting with flavor, texture, presentation. It requires a bit more skill to mix cupcakes, for each batch of cupcakes is its own experience, from opening the box and getting that first whiff of freshly baked brilliance to the licking of the last smudge of frosting off the fingers. Deciding which cupcakes to add to a box can be tricky, but the reward is oh, so worth it.

I recall watching an episode of “What Not to Wear” where the guest said to Stacey of her outfit, “But this skirt and shoes don’t match!” to which Stacey sagely responded, “They don’t have to match, they just have to go.”

Devil’s good cupcakes with milk chocolate frosting, filled with vanilla goo.

The same is true, of course, with cupcakes. Although no one will object to a boxful of different kinds of chocolate cupcakes, a more striking assortment requires a second sense for “what goes”. What goes depends, of course. It depends on the baker, the occasion, the eater, or the ingredients. The rich sophistication of an espresso mousse cupcake might be nicely offset by the light airiness of a cupcake of lemon chiffon. A simple, “Everyone loves vanilla” cupcake might be a nice complement to the more daring Pistachio and Banana cupcake. Or a gingerbread cupcake might be a nice addition to a boxful of pumpkin spice beauties. It all depends on what is to be achieved, what sort of experience the baker wants to create. Whether the cupcakes are complementary, themed, or accented depends entirely on the occasion.

When I decorate my cupcakes, I aim to match the appearance to the taste. Today I made chocolate covered cherry cupcakes, dipped in a silky chocolate ganache frosting with a cherry on top, and gingergbread cupcakes with lemon cream cheese frosting, dusted with cloves and highlighted with a bit of cinnamon stick. Their presentation says, “I am a serious cupcake to be eaten with dignity and care. I am not a cupcake for a four year old’s birthday party.” I make those cupcakes on occasion, too—lovely yellow cupcakes topped with fluffy white frosting and jaunty multicolored sprinkles, or chocolate cupcakes bursting with creamy white filling, delightfully surprising whomever bites into it. I’ve made cupcakes with spiderwebs on top and cupcakes covered with delicate pink roses. Each cupcake has its place, but never in the same box!

I want each cupcake to simultaneously be fulfilling and enticing. I want that last bite to be rewarding and tinged with only the slightest bit of sadness. I want each cupcake to be just sweet enough to be savored, but not so sweet only a child can stand it. Cupcakes should be beautiful, delicious, satisfying. They should leave you wanting another, but satisfied if another cannot be had.

Cupcakes are never pretentious. They don’t take themselves too seriously. They haven’t the austerity of a two-layer cake, though they certainly can have all the flavor. And perhaps this is why I love cupcakes best of all.

Of course, cupcake philosophy is easily applied to all areas of my life from my writing to design, etc. But I needn’t dwell on that. It isn’t the cupcake way.

[tags]cupcakes, design, philosophy[/tags]

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