Well as far as this blog is concerned, I'm the most important! Hello! Have you read the blog title? Whose place is it, after all!
At any rate, in spite of my inflated sense of my own importance, I wanted to be a help to my daughter in whatever way possible. Of course, many details associated with a wedding are outside my area of expertise. I was relieved to know I wasn't needed for flower arranging or hair styling or items of that nature. I was pretty sure I could help with decorating if all I was required to do was "hold this" and "hand me that", but it turned out I wasn't even needed in that area. So where did Stephanie need my help?
In the kitchen.
And, no, she didn't need me to make the ice.
What Stephanie wanted was help with the groom's cake. Except it wasn't a cake. And except I didn't just help. I was in charge of the whole thing. And it was a surprise for the groom. And I wasn't feeling pressure at all.
Stephanie wanted to do cupcakes instead of a groom's cake, and since Zack is a hunting enthusiast (did she pick a man like her daddy, or what?!), she wanted the cupcakes to be camouflage.
Yeah, that was my reaction too.
But being the dutiful mother of the bride, I didn't want to let my daughter down, so I scoured the internet for ideas. This link was a big help to me because it seemed fairly easy. And it had pictures. I studied this post for weeks, calculating my ingredients and visualizing my efforts. I collected the cake mixes and frostings needed, and made a list of the items I would need to bring with me to help make this masterpiece.
After studying as though for the test of my life, I was really confident that this would be a piece of cake. (Pun intended.)
Two days before the wedding I set up in the church kitchen, and, with Kylee's help, we made the cupcakes. We had a system. We had a flow. We had too much batter. We were supposed to make 100 cupcakes, but the batter made 150. No problem. We were expecting 300 or more guests for the wedding, so the more the better, right? Things progressed so easily that I was truly deceived into thinking I might be the next Rachel Ray. (I couldn't be Martha Stewart. After all, the cupcakes came from cake mixes and the frostings were canned. And I couldn't be Paula Deene. No butter.)
I moved along at top speed right up until it came time to frost them. I had no problem following the directions to mix the colors, but getting the frosting into disposable Ziploc bags and then getting those bags into a pastry bag and attaching the tip and ... well, that all requires coordination.
I don't have coordination.
I got more frosting on the outside of the ziplocs and on the outside of the pastry bag than I did on the cupcakes. Plus, I got frosting all over me. Instead of the three frostings coming out in a swirl, I could only get one out at a time. At one point I had frosting shooting out of both ends of the bag, narrowly missing the carefully carved fruit that was going to be served at the reception. I sent Matt and Kylee to the store to buy more frosting because clearly I hadn't considered the amount I would scatter all over the surface of the kitchen when I calculated how much I needed.
I continued to struggle, and could foresee being finished sometime in July. Perhaps we could serve them at an Independence Day celebration? Finally, someone came to my rescue. Someone who clearly knew what they were doing. Someone who had a vested interest in making sure these groom's cupcakes turned out spectacularly.
(Cue the Indiana Jones theme song.)
Yeah, I couldn't believe it either. The only thing I could figure was that working with camouflage came naturally to him.
Indiana perfectly frosted all 150 of those cupcakes.
I swear I could hear his theme music playing the whole time. And he did such a good job, I was only slightly embarrassed that my latest kitchen attempt had to be rescued by my husband.
I have promised myself that from now on when I'm on Pinterest, I will only pin sarcastic sayings. When I start pinning recipes and ideas, I fool myself into thinking I've got actual ability.
As for Indiana, he was proud of his accomplishment, but less than pleased when someone took his picture and put it on facebook with the caption, "Pastry Pastor".
That was as tasty as the cupcakes were!