Fireworks, a Firecracker & Foul Play

Home > Other > Fireworks, a Firecracker & Foul Play > Page 9
Fireworks, a Firecracker & Foul Play Page 9

by D. E. Haggerty


  For the Marshmallow Meringue Icing:

  1 ½ cups granulated sugar

  ¼ teaspoon cream of tartar

  ¼ cup water

  3 large egg whites

  1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

  Directions

  For the Graham Cracker Crust:

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit (175 degrees Celsius) and line 2 cupcake pans with cupcake liners.

  In a medium bowl, stir together the graham cracker crumbs, sugar, salt and butter until evenly coated.

  Use a measuring spoon to portion out tablespoon-sized scoops of the mixture into the bottom of each cupcake liner. Press down until a solid crust is formed.

  Bake in the preheated oven for 5 minutes to allow the base to harden. Transfer to wire racks to cool for a minimum of 15 minutes.

  For the Graham Cracker Cupcakes:

  5. Whisk together flour, graham flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder and kosher salt in medium bowl until fully incorporated. Set aside.

  6. Place chocolate in a medium, heatproof bowl and pour boiling water over the chocolate. Whisk until the chocolate is melted and allow the mixture to cool for 15 minutes.

  7. In a measuring cup, whisk together buttermilk and vanilla extract. Set aside.

  8. Whisk eggs on medium-high speed until light and foamy, about 2 minutes. Reduce the mixer speed to its lowest setting and slowly pour in vegetable oil, whisking for 30 to 60 seconds until combined.

  9. With the mixer still on low, slowly pour the cooled chocolate mixture into the egg mixture. Then slowly pour in the buttermilk and vanilla mixture. Add granulated sugar and continue to whisk until the batter is smooth and liquid, about 2 minutes.

  10. Remove the bowl from the mixer and add the dry ingredients. Mix until just incorporated, scraping down the sides of the bowl and lifting and folding in from the bottom and center of the bowl. Whisk until the dry ingredients are just incorporated — at this point, the batter will still look a little lumpy.

  11. Pour the batter through a fine-mesh sieve over a large bowl to remove any lumps.

  12. Use a cookie dough scoop to divide the strained batter evenly between the graham-crusted cupcake liners, filling each cup up to two-thirds full with batter.

  13. Bake in the preheated oven for 25 to 30 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean and the cupcake tops spring back when gently poked.

  14. Transfer the pans to a wire rack and allow to cool completely in the pan.

  For the Chocolate Buttercream Frosting:

  In a small, heavy bottomed saucepan over medium-low heat, melt together the chocolate, butter, and syrup, using a rubber spatula to stir constantly until completely melted and combined. Remove from heat and allow to cool in room temperature for about 20 minutes until mixture thickens to a spreadable consistency.

  Once the mixture is spreadable, use a small icing spatula to spread about 1 ½ teaspoons of chocolate onto the top of each cupcake.

  For the Marshmallow Meringue Icing:

  In a medium, heavy bottom saucepan over medium-low heat, combine sugar, cream of tartar and water. Whisk constantly until the sugar starts to dissolve, continuing to do so until the mixture reaches 240 degrees Fahrenheit (115 degrees Celsius). When the mixture reaches the proper temperature, it should be syrupy. Immediately transfer to a heatproof measuring cup and work quickly to make sure that it maintains its temperature.

  Combine egg whites and vanilla extract. With the mixture on medium speed, slowly pour the fresh sugar syrup down the side of the mixer bowl. When all the syrup is added, turn the mixer speed to medium-high and whisk until the icing becomes thick and holds a firm peak. Continue to whisk until the icing is just slightly warm and very thick, about 10 minutes total.

  Transfer to a piping bag with a large round tip. Pipe a generous dollop of icing onto each cupcake. Then use a culinary chef's torch to gently toast each dollop.

  Chapter 11

  Twizzler Firecracker Cupcakes

  Another super fun recipe for firecracker cupcakes.

  Makes 24 cupcakes

  Ingredients

  Cupcakes:

  1 white cake mix

  4 large egg whites

  ¼ cup canola oil

  1 small box cherry Jello

  ½ cup water

  Buttercream frosting:

  3 cups powdered sugar

  1/3 cup butter, softened

  1 ½ teaspoons vanilla

  1 to 2 tablespoons milk

  Firecracker Decorations:

  8 Twizzler Cherry Pull-n-Peel Licorice Twists

  vanilla Candiquik

  Blue sugar sprinkles

  Directions

  For the cupcakes:

  Preheat oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit (165 degrees Celsius) and line 2 cupcake pans with cupcake liners.

  Mix the cake mix, eggs, oil, Jello and water together with a mixer until well blended, about 2-3 minutes.

  Fill the cupcake liners 2/3 full with batter.

  Bake for 17 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

  Allow the cupcakes to cool before frosting.

  For the buttercream frosting:

  In medium bowl, mix powdered sugar and butter with spoon or electric mixer on low speed. Stir in vanilla and 1 tablespoon of milk.

  Gradually beat in just enough of the remaining milk to make frosting smooth and spreadable.

  Using a Wilton tip 2D make large stars to decorate the cupcakes.

  For the firecracker decorations:

  Cut each Twizzler Pull-n-Peel licorice twist into 3 pieces, about 3 inches each. Peel down each string of Twizzler about 1/3 of the way.

  In a microwave safe bowl, melt the vanilla Candiquik according to the package directions. Dip the separated ends of the Twizzlers in the melted vanilla Candiquik. Then dip the coated ends in blue sprinkles.

  Separate the Twizzler ropes so they fan out like a firecracker. Push a Twizzler firecracker down into the center of each cupcake.

  An Excerpt from Never Trust a Skinny Cupcake Baker

  Chapter 1

  Whoever said ‘nothing tastes as good as skinny feels’ has never had cupcakes.

  Anna bursts into the kitchen. “He’s here,” she gasps. The swinging door separating the café from the kitchen smacks her in the butt, but she just stands there fanning herself.

  I look up from the tray of cupcakes I’m icing and raise my eyebrows at her. “Who is it exactly that is here?” The question isn’t necessary. I know precisely who she’s talking about. Even though my heart rate nearly doubles in response to her announcement, I act unaffected and return to my beloved cupcakes.

  “Detective Hottie,” she breathes out.

  Sigh. Detective Hottie, as Anna so affectionately calls him, is the police detective who she’s been trying to hook me up with since my latest relationship crashed and burned. There’s not really anything left to fight for in a relationship when a boyfriend tells his supposed girlfriend he won’t have sex with her until she loses at least twenty pounds and then walks out.

  “Stop thinking about that jerk face,” Anna grits out. There are definitely disadvantages to working with your best friend. She can totally read my mind and doesn’t bother to even try to not use her knowledge against me. I never should have told her that her pink hair was cute on the first day of junior high when the other kids were teasing her.

  My best friend doesn’t allow me time for contemplation. She grabs my elbow and starts lugging me towards the storefront. There’s no way she could drag me if I didn’t let her. Anna’s not even five feet tall and, with her bright pink spiky hair, easily confused with a pixie. The girl doesn’t even weigh enough to donate blood – let alone drag a heifer like me across my kitchen. I set my pastry bag down on the nearest table and push my glasses up the bridge of my nose before turning to the crazy baker.

  “You don’t have to drag me, I’m going already,” I whisper-shout. It’s not like I don’t want to go ou
t there. Of course, I do. Any red-blooded American woman wants to be up close to Detective Hottie. But he’s completely and totally out of my league. Doesn’t matter to Anna, though. In the past two months since my boyfriend walked out on me, she’s become relentless in her goal to hook me up with the detective. The last time I refused to serve him; she crushed a cupcake onto my head. I was washing out frosting for days. And isn’t that a waste?

  I push open the door separating the kitchen from the café area and smile up at Ben. I’m not exactly short at five feet five inches, but Ben is easily six feet. And like the nickname Detective Hottie indicates, he’s hot. Like hotter than the bakery kitchen even when Anna’s been baking for hours with all the ovens on go. His brown eyes remind me of melted chocolate ganache and he has the sweetest dimple on his left cheek. And he’s built. He probably weighs 200 pounds, but it’s all muscle on this man. He must get his suits tailor-made. There’s no way an off-the-rack suit can fit his wide shoulders and biceps, which are too big for my hands to wrap around. Time to stop staring and serve the man.

  “Good morning, Ben. How are you?” I just manage not to swoon as I stare into his dark brown eyes that are twinkling as if he knows how hard of a time I’m having.

  “I’m great now that I’m looking at your beautiful face.” I roll my eyes at him. “How are things with you, sweetheart?” I may not be in Ben’s league, but whose heart wouldn’t skip a beat at being called sweetheart by this man?

  I ignore his question. “What can I get you, Ben?”

  “Just a coffee, honey. I’m running late.”

  I quickly turn to the coffee machine and make Ben an extra-large serving. I hand it to him in a to-go cup, and he starts to pull out his wallet. I immediately pull the coffee away. “You know your money’s no good here,” I state, daring him to try to pay. All the boys (and girls for that matter) in blue drink for free at Callie’s Cakes. It’s a tradition started by the former owner and, in honor of that wonderful woman, I’ve kept the tradition going.

  Ben doesn’t put his wallet away. Instead, he pulls out a five-dollar bill and puts it into the tip jar, which is actually a piggy bank in the shape of a cupcake. After he puts his wallet away, he looks at me and raises an eyebrow as if daring me to say anything. I don’t agree with a five-dollar tip on a two-dollar cup of coffee, and he knows it. I’m not in the mood to argue today though. I shrug instead and hand him his coffee. My traitor fingers tingle as he deliberately brushes my hand as he grabs the cup.

  “Be safe out there,” I say and start to turn away.

  But Ben doesn’t let me off the hook that easy. “When are you finally going to let me take you out, Callie?”

  I cross my arms over my chest and stare him down. We’ve been having this argument for a year now. It’s getting tedious. That’s a total lie. What it really is, is getting more and more difficult to say no to him. I shake my head. “I’d say the statistical probability is zero.”

  Ben shakes his head. “I never did like statistics.”

  “You don’t want to date me, Ben.”

  He smiles that devastating smile; the one where his dimple shows. “I’ve been asking you out nearly every day for a year now. Does that sound like a man who doesn’t want to date you?”

  I ignore his question and prod him to leave instead. “Thought you were running late.”

  He looks down at his watch and mutters a few choice swear words under his breath. “Til tomorrow then,” he says and salutes me with his coffee cup before stalking out of the place.

  I head into the kitchen, but Anna’s blocking me. She’s standing there with her hands on her hips, full of attitude. I don’t bother trying to push past her. The pixie may not be able to stop me, but she’ll grab onto me and wrap herself around me like an anaconda snake if she thinks it’s necessary. Instead, I walk out from behind the display cases and start gathering the used mugs and trash from the tables. The bakery isn’t big, but we have enough room for seven tables and their accompanying seats. There’d be more room if I hadn’t updated the area with comfy armchairs and loveseats. I want customers to be comfortable and stick around – although the free Wi-Fi code customers get with a purchase only lasts for thirty minutes. I may have studied German literature instead of business, but that doesn’t mean I’m completely devoid of business savvy.

  “Why don’t you give Ben a chance? He’s hot!” Anna practically shouts across the bakery. The morning rush may have come and gone, but the place is never empty. Being close to the University means we have college kids lounging around the place at all times of the day. The chatter immediately stills, and everyone looks at me. I blush and shake my head. I grab my tray and rush into the back of the bakery with Anna on my heels.

  I put down my tray and turn on her. “What is wrong with you? You may be my best friend but don’t you dare do that again!” I hiss at her and turn back to load the dishes before I say something I’m going to regret.

  I feel a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Callie.” She takes a deep breath. “But seriously? Why don’t you go out with him?”

  I hang my head. She’s not going to stop until I talk to her. “Look at me, Anna. I’m no one’s ideal date.” I indicate my size fourteen body with a sweep of my hand. “I don’t want a pity date.”

  Anna snorts. “You’re an idiot.” I start to respond, but she throws her hand up like a stop sign. “You may have a PhD Dr. Muller, but you are completely clueless when it comes to men. That man thinks you’re hot. He’s been asking you out for a year! He’s not looking for a pity date.”

  I sigh and shake my head. She’s not exactly impartial. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not ready to date again anyway.”

  “That jerk of an ex did a number on you,” she mutters and moves away. I think I’ve finally managed to escape her inquisition for the day, but in no time she’s back waving a flyer in my face. “So,” she says and hands me the piece of paper, “I’ve got the solution for you.”

  I look down at the flyer she shoved into my hands and immediately start shaking my head. “No way.” I put my hands up in self-defense and start to back away. “I am not doing a pole dancing course. I’d break the freaking pole!”

  My pushy assistant isn’t taking no for an answer. “No, you won’t. Anyway, I already signed us up and paid for the course.”

  “Why pole dancing? Are you trying to humiliate me? I can’t be sexy.”

  Anna growls. “You can be sexy! What am I saying? You are sexy! You just need some self-esteem and that’s why we’re learning to pole dance.” She turns and heads back to the café, but just before she’s gone, she glances over her shoulder. “The first class is tonight at quarter to five.”

  “Quarter to five! I don’t have time to get to my apartment for clothes.” The bakery closes at four each afternoon, but I usually need an additional half an hour or so to get things cleaned up and in order for the next morning.

  Anna smiles and winks. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered.” No good ever came from those words uttered from her mouth.

  Keep reading Never Trust a Skinny Cupcake Baker

  Thanks!

  The first time I was accused of mishandling a suspect I was blazing mad. Now, I won’t say I’ve never pushed a suspect, but in this case, I had treated the suspect with kid gloves. My supervisor told me: “You’re not really a police officer until you’ve been accused of misconduct.” Not exactly comforting words at the time. But those words did make for a good premise for a story. And thus, Fireworks, A Firecracker & Foul Play was born.

  thank you to all my blog followers, twitter peeps, Instagram followers, newsletter subscribers, and Facebook friends for encouraging and supporting me as I continue to struggle with finding some balance in my life. I’ve discovered balance means that sometimes you get less writing down and sometimes you hit it out of the park. It all balances out. Pun intended.

  I may be super-proud to call myself an indie writer – even when people I meet say in a somewhat snooty voice �
�Oh, you’re self-published’ as if I have a communicable disease. But ‘independent’ is a major misnomer because it totally takes more than little ‘ole me to turn an idea into a published book. Let’s name those helpers!

 

‹ Prev