Never Too Late: Carrot Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Frosting

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I didn’t set out to be a cupcake baker. Before I became a mother, my idea of a cupcake was the one I grew up with. The industrial kind, with a perfect white squiggle sitting atop a depthless chocolate pond, and a dollop of fake whipped cream tucked inside. Pure heaven after a hard day in elementary school.

When Joe’s first birthday party rolled around, I still had very little cupcake experience. In fact, I had never baked anything. Luckily a friend named Nancy, the only single woman in New York who knew how to bake from scratch, offered to whip up a homemade carrot cake with cream cheese frosting and a teddy bear motif for the celebration. Why I didn’t simply order a cake from the supermarket is still a question I ask myself forty years later. Probably something to do with a skewered sense of perfect mothering. Plus I liked the taste of homemade.

Joe was Joey back then.

Joe was Joey back then.

Eight months into our Pastry Sessions, I felt like I owed the grandkids some cupcakes. Hadn’t I educated them in patisserie long enough? Though they were too polite to complain, I couldn’t help but imagine they wanted to bake something that they actually recognized and could pronounce. Something that their friends would want to eat.

Finn offers moral support.

Finn offers moral support.

When word of the carrot cupcakes arrived, the excitement ran so high that even Finn showed up—and stayed the hour! “I’ll help with the frosting,” he offered, holding a carrot next to his nose in an imitation of Pinocchio.

As we both lined up the ingredients on our kitchen counters, I leveled with Piper. “This is a real test. I’m making this recipe for the first time, which means that there may be mistakes. Don’t worry, because I can always fix the recipe for the next time.” I was breaking my own rules since one of my guiding principles for Pastry Sessions is to only use tried-and-true winners. Failure is not an option during grandma bonding time. But sometimes you just have to take a chance.

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“Where do your recipes come from, Grandma?” Piper innocently inquired. I told her the truth. “They come from a few other people’s recipes, mashed up, poured through my brain and then sifted through my senses. When I get a picture in my mind that mentally tastes good, we bake it.” I wanted to eliminate the magic.

Bored with that insight, she jumped ahead, and asked, “Do we have to have raisins?”

Filling the cups.

Filling the cups.

“Absolutely not! Not only that, if you don’t like any of these spices, you don’t have to include them,” I told her. That’s the power of being the recipe developer. I suggested that we smell each spice by tipping our noses in the small jars and eliminating whatever we didn’t like. Sadly, my nutmeg was so old it smelled of nothing. A perfect time to talk about expiration dates.

As reported earlier, Piper continues to improve at a rapid pace. Watching her quiet concentration, I realize that after eight months of baking together her skills are better than most adults. The only technique we haven’t touched upon is whipping egg whites—a necessity for the classic high-rising layer cakes that children love—a technique that intimidates most grown-ups. We’ll get there soon enough, I thought. High level baking demands patience—a quality that jittery Grandma is not best known for.

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Meanwhile, our experiment that day was a great success. The kids were delirious just tasting the batter. Much to my surprise, on the very first attempt, these dark moist cakes topped with smooth, tangy, cream cheese frosting reverberated with all that is good about classic American baked goods. They may even be the sine qua non of cupcakery! My only question is: Why did I wait so long to make something so cute?

What happens when the Zoom is over.

What happens when the Zoom is over.

To the adults in the room: If you want your carrot cake less cute, say for a grown-up dinner party, this recipe will yield a single layer 8 or 9-inch round cake. Double the quantities for two layers.

RECIPE

Carrot Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Frosting

1 cup flour

3/4 cup sugar

1/4 cup brown sugar

1 tsp baking soda

2 tsps cinnamon 

1 tsp nutmeg

1/2 tsp ground cloves

1/4 tsp ground ginger

1/2 tsp salt

2 eggs

1/2 cup plain vegetable oil

1 tsp vanilla

2 cups grated carrots (about 1 pound)

1/4 cup each raisins and finely chopped walnuts
 (or none)

Preheat oven to 350F. Line muffin pan with 12 cupcake liners.


In a medium bowl, place all the dry ingredients and mix with a fork. Then transfer to a sifter (or large strainer) over paper towels. Sift together dry ingredients. Set aside.

In the mixer with beaters, beat the eggs until light and frothy, about 3 minutes. Beating on medium high, drizzle in oil and vanilla. Mix until combined. 


Add dry ingredients and mix on slow speed just to combine. Add carrots, raisins and nuts and slowly mix just until combined. With a ladle, fill cupcake liners nearly to top. 


Bake about 25 minutes. Test for doneness with a toothpick inserted in center. Immediately remove cupcakes from pan. Cool on rack. Meanwhile make the frosting.


When cupcakes are cool, frost each with Cream Cheese Frosting. Store in sealed container in refrigerator. Makes 10-12 cupcakes
.

Naked cupcakes.

Naked cupcakes.

CREAM CHEESE FROSTING


4 ounces brick cream cheese, like Philadelphia


2 Tbsps butter


1 cup powdered sugar


1 tsp vanilla


2 tsps grated lemon zest


Combine all the ingredients in a food processor or mixer with paddle. Beat until smooth and spreadable. Store in refrigerator if not using soon.

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Les Financiers: Granny Takes a Wild Ride