Back in the fall, one of my coworkers got engaged. As we chatted wedding plans and budgets during the day, I found myself offering to make all the cupcakes for her Jan. 2 wedding. My baby was due December 18; I figured I’d have a good two weeks of the newborn stage down before diving in.
Well, instead, the baby was two weeks late. She came the Sunday before the wedding. The cupcakes were to be picked up the day before, which, oh yeah, was also the day of the baby’s first doctor appointment.
I’d been faithfully baking these cupcakes for several weeks and freezing them, so that part was done.
On Wednesday, I made vanilla butter cream. Lots and lots of butter cream. And because I’m me, I totally overestimated the amount of butter I would need and now I have tons and tons of butter chilling in my basement. My mom, of course, was the one who sifted all that powdered sugar.
I made two full containers like this, plus two huge mixing bowls worth of frosting… guess what I have left over.
Some of the aftermath.
Thursday morning, we pulled out the butter cream. This is of course after spending a sleepless night with the newborn. I rushed to get dressed and showered for the doctor appointment while my three-year-old decided to have a meltdown. And then I had a meltdown. The butter cream was way too thick. My mother, superwoman that she is, rushed into the rescue by re-whipping all the butter cream and adding a little bit of cream to lighten it up.
She also managed to entertain the three-year-old at the same time. When we got back from the doctor, the butter cream was ready to go and so are the cupcakes. All three of us dove in icing, sprinkling, boxing and packaging and everything was ready to go within an hour.
Some of us spent more time licking and sampling than anything else.
And by noon on Thursday, they were picked up and whisked away to the venue, like Cinderella at her ball.
Despite all the potential disasters, I don’t think they turned out half bad.