Memorial Day Lemon Cupcake Party (and Why I Don't Have a Blowtorch)

Did I ever tell you that Mum doesn't like cupcakes? Well she doesn't. The reason, or reasons, so far as I have been able to determine, are that: 

1. She doesn't like peeling the paper off the outside. 

2. They always have too much frosting.

3. [this is a direct quote] They look stupid. 

So I made cupcakes this week. 

Hey, it's Memorial Day weekend. I felt a small commemoration was in order. I mean, I am not going to be grilling ANYTHING; I am not going to be on a beach; I am not going to be wearing a sundress and laughing prettily at an outdoor garden party.* I figured the least I could do was make a few cupcakes, Mum's predilections be damned. 

*What I WILL be doing, incidentally, is cleaning, re-carpeting, and seasonally organising the shoes in the mudroom, and also attending "Wool Days" at Old Sturbridge Village where I intend to lose my head COMPLETELY over 19th century farm animals, printing presses, medicinal herbs, and dyeing and weaving techniques. I realise I am slightly in the minority when I say that I cannot, at the moment, conceive of a more amazing day out. I may even milk a cow, dear reader. Or wear a bonnet. 

Anyway. Cupcakes. Specifically, Lemon Cupcakes. 

MEMORIAL DAY LEMON CUPCAKES

or

LEMON CURD CUPCAKES WITH VANILLA BUTTERCREAM

The recipe for this one is the Lemon Meringue Cupcake recipe from darling Martha, which is topped with a crispy shell of Seven-Minute Frosting. I followed the cake part of the recipe to the letter, but decided to switch out the blowtorched*-meringue frosting for your run-of-the-mill-but-still-freakishly-good Vanilla Buttercream. 

*I don't own a blowtorch. The reason for this is because I am a pyromaniac and it is a firmly established supposition that were I ever to be given a blowtorch, I would immediately set the entire house on fire. One of the worst spots of trouble I ever got into was when my parents found me in the living room one cold winters day happily stoking a roaring blaze in the fireplace. Which I had lit. By myself. I was seven. 

Anyway. Cupcakes. 

I wanted something that was festive and summery, but not too summery. (We're not in June yet, dear reader, and I may add that as I type this sentence I am wearing wool knee socks, a fleece, and a down vest.) The berries haven't really hit the farmers markets yet, so all the wonderfulness with raspberries and strawberries and blueberries and blackberries is going to have to wait a few more weeks, and anything involving whipped cream and/or custard is a) difficult to eat when you are a Lovely Librarian and b) just going to slump and die an ugly death when left out of the fridge for more than 20 minutes. But lemon is a perfect transitional taste. Fresh and light and tart. Lemon it was. 

The cupcake decision was an easy one. I have nothing against cupcakes and I don't care what my sainted mother says. Cupcakes are fun. 

CUPCAKES

ARE

FUN.

The blowtorched version of these, according to Martha's directions, has a tablespoon of lemon curd spread onto the top, underneath the seven-minute frosting, which, together under the flame, I imagine, become a truly amazing gummy sticky lemony sugary mass of deliciousness. 

My "Beetle-is-not-allowed-fire" version involved cutting a small hole in the top of each cupcake and popping in a teaspoon of lemon curd. Apparently, according to the internet, this is widely done in baking circles. The obvious reason is WHO DOESN'T LOVE A CUPCAKE WITH A DELICIOUS GOOEY CENTRE? 

I mean, apart from my mother. 

And then I decided to go old school Buttercream, because it would sit well overnight and if there's one thing that screams "American National Holiday" it's a huge dollop of vanilla buttercream frosting atop a cupcake.

The batter for this comes together really well, even if you do spend a considerable period of time squeezing and zesting lemons. It calls for 3 tablespoons of zest and 2 tablespoons of juice. THAT'S A LOT OF LEMON FOR 24 CUPCAKES. I was worried that it would be overpowering, but my fears have been put to rest. It has been judged the right amount of lemon. PHEW. 

I approached the "coring" of the cupcakes with trepidation. I think this is because Joy of Baking actually suggested that I use an apple corer. Which. TERRIFYING. I totally prevaricated on this one out of sheer culinary intimidation. I let them cool for longer than I needed too, I folded and refolded the laundry, I organised the recycling, I gathered up all the painting drop cloths in the library and stacked them in descending order of paint spatter surface coverage. Finally, I told myself to pull on my big girl pants and get in there. 

I am ashamed to say it was ridiculously easy. I did not use an apple corer. I used a paring knife. I had a pair of antique lobster tongs on hand in case more extensive excavation was needed, but honestly it was about five seconds per cupcake, and it was all over. I felt accomplished, if a bit silly. 

It seemed shame to waste the centre of each cupcake, so I put all the little bites in a bowl and decided that Mum could safely eat these without offending her anti-cupcake sensibilities. I realised as I was doing it that they are, delightfully, the munchkin equivalent of a cupcake. THEY ARE CUPCAKE MUNCHKINS. This made me stupidly happy for a little while. 

Special Beetle Note: Mum's version of this for dessert last night was a bowl of cupcake munchkins spread with lemon curd and topped with buttercream. It was a deconstructed cupcake, if you will. Eat your heart out, Heston Blumenthal.  

And since coring them had worked out so well, it was obviously just the work of a few more minutes to drop a spoonful of lemon curd into each one. 

There is very little that needs to be noted about Vanilla Buttercream. The only thing that I WILL note here is that I forgot how much fun it is to use a pastry bag with tips. 

So get ready for A LOT A LOT A LOT OF FANCY FROSTING DECOS THIS SUMMER. 

[insert Beetle dorky happy fancy frosting dance]

All that remains is for me to wish everyone a Happy Memorial Day weekend, remind you all not to lose your heads and forget sunblock, and hope that I see some of you in the coming months. 

I can promise you fancy frosting, that's for damn sure.