My family members are generally the taste testers for the baked goods I produce in my parents kitchen. This can often be a very positive thing in my life. To hear the comments, "Julia, you are a genius!" and "How have I lived without your tasty morsels passing my lips? These cupcakes have brought life to my previously darkened soul!" Yes, the comments can be quite intense, but they also push me forward to bring more lost souls to baked goodness heaven.
Have I played this up enough?
Now you can understand how crushing any negative comments can be to my psyche. That whole premise of supportive yet constructive suggestions helping a person improve in their craft is ridiculous. It just makes my ego deflate like someone stuck a pin in my balloon head [weird image, i know]. I just can't handle anything really. I just want people to adore me and say nice and pretty things about me.
Dulce de Leche cupcakes in theory sound tasty. Just the way the title rolls off your tongue fills the dessert with intrigue and mystery and sweetness. The cupcake is composed of a cake batter which is noted as being not too sweet but the perfect companion to a very sweet frosting and dulce de leche frosting. A normal combination.
But they honestly were not that great.
The baking part was fun as always. I do enjoy some therapeutic baking sessions every now and again. I started this one by boiling an unopened can of sweetened condensed milk for three hours in a pot of water. This makes automatic dulce de leche [which is handy for those who do not desire to pay copious amounts of money for a jar at Whole Foods]. The next day I made the batter and the frosting and then assembled the mini cakes.
The dishes that await me at the end never light a happiness in my soul. Rather I despair. Does it even make sense that I would clean the dishes since I labored over the treats? It really doesn't add up. Ah well, as long as my mother doesn't have to attend to them [which I totally took advantage of Saturday night when I looked at her with puppy dog eyes and pleaded that she clean the dishes instead of I. pathetic. i know].
The end result was pretty.
I used a plastic baggie for my frosting. I simply filled the bag and then cut off the tip. It was easy and it turned out pretty. To finish it up I drizzled some of the remaining dulce de leche on top and then completed it with either sprinkles, sugar, or sea salt.
One of my siblings bit into the cupcake and immediately blurted out, "What is this? Cornbread?" My bakers soul was crushed. My idealistic world came crashing to the ground. Cornbread? That's what you eat with fried chicken or chili! Not dulce de leche frosting. What barbarians my siblings are. They should try holding their comments in their mouths next time. That way they can hold onto them until they reach their bedrooms. Then they can blurt out their comments all they want. My cupcakes were not made out of cornbread, it was a cupcake recipe I found on a blog that didn't involve corn any of sorts.
Okay. Let's be real. Was I really crushed? Absolutely not. You win some, you loose a lot. That's life. I have learned from this baking adventure to not make cornbread cupcakes again. Simple.
And what is life without cute dog pictures?