by Sheryl Berk
“Hey, girls—ready to get bakin’?”
Kylie whispered in her ear, “Small problem. I kind of forgot to bring ingredients.”
Juliette smiled and whispered back, “I kind of didn’t forget—no sweat!”
Phew! Kylie felt like hugging Juliette for saving the day. Their teacher unloaded flour, butter, sugar, and a bunch of other ingredients onto the counter.
“Before we begin, I think Kylie should explain a little about what this club is,” Juliette said. “Kylie, take it away!”
Kylie gulped and flipped through her notebook. Nowhere in all the plans that she’d written down did she include a speech! She sent Juliette a telepathic “SOS!” but her adviser just smiled and gave her a thumbs-up sign.
“Well, this club is about baking,” Kylie began.
“Obviously!” chuckled Jenna.
“And it’s also about us working together,” Kylie continued.
“Like a team?” asked Sadie.
“Exactly! We’re a team. Everyone will have a job to do, and everyone’s opinion is important.”
The girls nodded. Kylie relaxed a little. “I want this to be really fun and cool,” she added. “I was looking forward to it all day, and I hope you guys were too.” Kylie saw Lexi shrug and Jenna yawn. This was not the enthusiasm she had hoped for.
“Baking is amazing,” Kylie said. “It’s like a wizard creating magic! You start with a few ingredients and poof ! After a few minutes in the oven, it all comes together into a delicious dessert.”
“If you do it right,” cautioned Juliette. “You have to follow directions very precisely in baking.”
Well, that was true. One time she and her mom had decided to “wing” a fudge brownie recipe instead of following the one in the cookbook. Why couldn’t they add an entire can of cocoa powder? The more chocolate the better, right? Instead it stuck to the bottom of the pan and tasted like bitter, burnt hot cocoa.
Then there was the cheesecake she’d made for her dad’s birthday. Kylie was so excited to serve it that she didn’t let it set long enough in the fridge, and it came out like cheesecake soup! Juliette was right. If you didn’t pay attention to the recipe, it never turned out the way it was supposed to.
Sadie frowned. “Baking sounds hard.”
“Sounds like a Harry Potter spell,” Jenna snickered.
“The best way to learn is by doing,” Juliette said. “I was thinking maybe something simple for starters—like chocolate-chip muffins.”
“I like chocolate-chip muffins!” said Jenna.
“Yeah,” said Sadie. “They’re pretty good.”
Lexi nodded her approval.
“Then what are we waiting for?” asked Juliette. She dug into her bag and handed each of the girls a purple apron to tie around their waists.
“My favorite color!” Kylie exclaimed. “Cool!”
“Well, I thought we needed to look like an official club,” Juliette said. “And basic chef’s white seemed a little stuffy—I thought we’d be a little more colorful.” The girls nodded in approval. “Ladies, put on your aprons and let’s get started!”
Juliette placed the recipe on the Smart Board projector and Kylie skimmed the instructions. “For little muffins, these look pretty complicated,” she said. “Are you sure we’re going to be able to make these?”
“You never know till you try,” Juliette said, preheating the oven to 350 degrees.
Jenna assembled all the ingredients on the counter: flour, sugar, baking powder, milk, oil, eggs, salt, vanilla, and a bowl of chocolate chips. She tasted a chip. “Mmmm…semi-sweet, I’d say.”
“Ding! Ding! Ding! You are correct!” laughed Juliette. “You know your chocolate.”
“Mix together all the dry ingredients,” Kylie read. “Lexi, hand me 2 cups of flour. And Sadie, how much sugar do we need?”
Sadie glanced at the Smart Board and looked confused. “Um, 2½ cups?” She poured the sugar into the measuring cup.
“I’ll crack the eggs,” offered Jenna. Kylie noticed she got several pieces of shell in the batter and was trying to fish them out.
Juliette watched the girls work, not offering a single comment or suggestion. Kylie wished Juliette would jump in every now and then, because none of them had any idea what they were doing! But she was the president, so she would have to lead them.
“Okay, fire up the mixer,” she instructed Lexi.
Lexi clicked the switch to 8 and the flour went flying! Everything had a coating of white powder.
“Slower! Slower!” Kylie shouted over the roaring paddle. “Put it on 2.”
The mixer slowed and quieted down. All four girls peered into the bowl, watching the ingredients blend into a yellow blob.
“This is going to take forever,” Jenna moaned. “I’m starving!”
“It says to add the chocolate chips once the wet and dry ingredients are smoothly combined,” Kylie said.
“It doesn’t look very smooth to me,” Lexi finally piped up. Huge clumps of butter were stuck to the blades of the mixer and the sides of the bowl. “Shouldn’t we scrape this into the mixture?”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Kylie replied. Then she dumped the entire bowl of chocolate chips into the batter. They mixed the batter for several more minutes and observed that it was now a brown, polka-dotted liquid.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to make a smoothie out of it,” Sadie sighed. “It says not to overbeat.”
“It’s okay,” said Kylie. “Once we get it baked, you’ll never know.”
Using ice-cream scoopers, they filled muffin pans with the batter.
“I like big muffins,” said Jenna. “These cups look tiny. Make sure you fill them to the top.”
“But it says fill two-thirds of the way,” Lexi pointed out.
“Oh, it’s close enough,” Jenna insisted. The batter spilled over the cups and all over the pan, and as they placed it in the oven, half of the batter sloshed onto the floor and on the oven door.
They needed to wait 30 minutes for the timer to ring. Juliette suggested they go around the group and each say their favorite treat. Kylie pulled out her notebook to take notes. “This way, I can look up the recipes and we can make one each week.”
“I love these apricot wheat-germ muffins my mom makes before a game,” said Sadie.
Jenna made a face. “Eww, that’s really gross! Wheat germ?”
“It’s healthy,” Sadie protested. “Okay, fine—banana bran loaf.”
“Bran?” Jenna pretended to gag. “Remind me to miss that week’s meeting.”
“Well, what do you want to make?” asked Sadie.
“My madre’s torrijas.”
“Translation?” Kylie asked, jotting it down in her book.
“It’s like bread pudding—made with milk, sugar, eggs, and sweet honey.”
“Sounds good,” Kylie replied. “What about you, Lexi?”
Lexi thought for a minute. “Rainbow marzipan cookies,” she answered softly. “I love the colors.”
“Now your turn, Kylie,” said Sadie. “You have a lot of cookbooks there—what’s your favorite?”
“That’s a tough one,” Kylie said, chewing her pen cap. “I guess I’d have to say Death by Chocolate.”
Sadie gulped. “You want to bake something that kills us?”
“No, it’s a cake,” groaned Jenna. “A really rich cake.”
“My aunt Peggy makes it for birthdays with rich chocolate-pudding filling and shaved chocolate flakes on top,” Kylie explained.
“All this talking about desserts is making me hungry,” moaned Jenna. “How much longer do we have to wait for these muffins to be done?”
“Three minutes,” replied Juliette. The girls gathered impatiently around the w
indow of the oven door. Finally the timer dinged.
Juliette took out the pan and placed it on the counter. The muffins looked sad and sunken—not to mention a little burnt around the edges.
“I don’t get it! What happened?” Jenna asked.
“Well, let’s see,” said Juliette. “Let’s go over everything you did.”
The girls listed all the ingredients they had placed in the bowl. Then Lexi noticed a small red-and-yellow can in the corner. “Baking powder?” she said, pointing to the can. “I think we forgot this.”
“Which explains why the muffins didn’t rise,” said Juliette.
“Can we taste one anyway?” asked Jenna. “I don’t care if mine is a little flat.”
She popped a warm crumb in her mouth…then spit it out. “Yuck! This is so sweet it’s disgusting! Sadie, how much sugar is in here?”
“I did what the recipe said,” Sadie replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s not my fault.”
“How many cups did the recipe call for?” asked Juliette.
Sadie tried to recall. “Um, 2½ .”
“What? That says 1½ !” yelled Jenna, looking at the Smart Board. “Can’t you read?”
“I can read,” Sadie protested. “I just must have been in a hurry.” She looked at the baking pan and sighed, “I’m really sorry I ruined everything.”
For a moment, Kylie was worried Sadie was going to cry. “Look, it’s not all your fault, Sadie. I beat the batter too much and put in way too many chocolate chips. I’m just as much to blame as you are.”
Jenna spit a broken eggshell into her hand. “Yeah, me too. I don’t think these muffins were supposed to have a hard crunch.”
Sadie nodded. “It’s just that sometimes my brain sees things in the wrong order.”
“What do you mean?” asked Jenna.
“It’s called dyslexia. I’m not stupid. I have a learning disorder.”
“Oh,” said Jenna softly. “We didn’t know.”
“No,” Sadie replied. “Not a lot of people do. It’s kind of embarrassing, you know?”
“That’s okay, Sadie,” Juliette patted her on the back. “People make mistakes. But we’ve learned a valuable lesson today.”
“That we stink as bakers?” asked Kylie.
“No, that baking is a science. You have to follow the ingredients and the instructions exactly until you are comfortable, confident, and skilled enough to improvise.”
“I don’t ever see that happening,” Kylie muttered.
“It will happen, I promise. And here’s the most important thing: you guys make a great team. I watched you all working together. Nobody was bossy, and nobody was lazy. It was a real group effort. You’re going to be a great club. It’s your first time. Cut yourselves some slack!”
Kylie looked at their inedible muffins and the mess all over the kitchen. Batter, flour, and dirty bowls were everywhere. “We should clean up,” she sighed.
“I’ll wash,” said Sadie.
“I’ll dry,” said Jenna.
Lexi grabbed a broom and started to sweep.
Well, thought Kylie, maybe Juliette was right. They all did pitch in when it counted. She stood up and dumped the muffins into the garbage.
The girls started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Kylie asked.
“You have batter all over your butt!” giggled Jenna, pointing. “We must have gotten some on the stool and you sat in it.”
Kylie felt her face flush. If this had happened in front of Meredith, she would have been mortified. She would have run off to the bathroom or ducked for cover. But somehow here, in front of her club, in front of these girls, it didn’t bother her quite so much. She turned around, shook her butt in the air, and cracked up. “Look, it’s the Batter Butt Dance!”
Jenna and Sadie joined in, bumping their hips together and strutting around the room. Lexi watched from the corner, smiling, and then began wiggling around as she swept the floor. “Go, Lexi! Go, Lexi!” the girls chanted.
Lexi looked embarrassed. Kylie quickly made a time-out sign with her hands. “Jenna, Sadie…stop!” she shushed them. “Sorry, Lexi!” She was afraid Lexi would run out of the room and never come back again.
But instead Lexi took a deep breath, dropped the broom, and shook her butt at them.
“You go, girl!” Sadie said, high-fiving her.
Kylie made up a rap: “It’s a mess—but don’t stress! The baking club’s a big success! Take a chance and do the Batter Butt Dance!”
They danced and sang as they cleaned. They were having so much fun that they didn’t even mind the work.
“Nice job, ladies,” said Juliette. “Everything is spick-and-span.”
“See you all next Wednesday?” Kylie asked as they turned off the lights and closed the door to the teachers’ lounge behind them. She held her breath, waiting for them to answer.
“Yeah,” Sadie said, and Jenna and Lexi nodded. “See ya.”
The next week was, as Sadie so perfectly put it, “a whole different ball game” for the Blakely baking club. First of all, Kylie came prepared with five copies of a simple vanilla cupcake recipe and all the ingredients. The girls carefully reviewed the recipe together before they began baking and discussed who would handle what task.
“Yum, Madagascar vanilla,” said Jenna, sampling a drop of the extract Kylie had brought. Kylie picked up the bottle—it just said “Pure Vanilla Extract.” But when she looked at the fine print on the label, sure enough, the vanilla was from Madagascar. “Jenna, you are amazing, and I am appointing you our official taste tester!” Kylie exclaimed.
Lexi would be in charge of piping the frosting onto the cupcakes in an artistic swirl.
“Watch this,” said Sadie, cracking an egg meticulously into the bowl with one hand.
Jenna peered into the bowl. “How do you do that?” she marveled. “Not a single splinter of eggshell!”
Sadie shrugged. “I’m good at handling a softball—an egg is just smaller.” So Sadie was in charge of all cracking.
Kylie put herself on mixer duty. She’d make sure that the ingredients were perfectly combined in just the right order on just the right speed. This time when they checked the batter, it had a lovely creamy color and consistency—and smelled delicious.
“It says bake for 17 to 25 minutes,” said Kylie. “I guess that means they’re not so sure how long it will take.”
“It means every oven and every cupcake batter is different,” explained Juliette. She demonstrated how they could insert a toothpick into the cupcakes to see if they were done. “If it comes out clean, you are good to go.”
This time when they scooped the batter into the muffin cups, they were careful not to overfill them: two-thirds of the way was just the right amount. And they wiped off any splatters on the pan so the cupcakes wouldn’t come out with crusty, burnt edges.
The cupcakes took exactly 21 minutes to bake to perfection. Juliette suggested they let them cool for another 15 minutes and discuss what kind of icing design they wanted to create. Jenna mixed confectioners’ sugar and butter with a tablespoon of vanilla to create a delicately sweet buttercream frosting, and Lexi added a few drops of red food coloring to turn it a rosy shade of pink.
“Pretty!” Kylie exclaimed. “Lexi, you really are an artist!” She watched as Lexi piped tiny swirls around the edge of the cupcake, ending with a dollop in the center. When she was finished, the icing looked like the petals of a flower.
“Wow!” Sadie and Jenna both gasped. “Awesome!”
“But the real test of a cupcake is how it tastes,” said Juliette. “Everyone dig in.”
They each took a bite.
“Delicioso!” declared Jenna. “Absolutely heaven!”
“This is amazing,” said
Kylie. “I have never tasted such a yummy cupcake.”
“I agree,” said Juliette. “As good as Gram Gaga’s! It’s moist, it’s light, it’s flavorful. The frosting isn’t too sweet or too sticky. A 10! Ladies, cupcakes are definitely your thing.”
“Then that’s what we should bake,” said Kylie. “Just cupcakes. Perfect, beautiful, delicious cupcakes—like no one has ever tasted before.”
“A cupcake club?” asked Jenna. “That’s kinda cool.”
“We need a name for it,” said Sadie, licking her fingers. “Like the Blakely Bears is the name of our basketball team. Every team has to have an awesome name.”
Kylie nodded. “How about the Cupcake Queens?”
Sadie winced. “I am so not into princesses.”
“The Cupcake Crusaders?” Jenna offered. Lexi gave it a thumbs-down. “Sounds like a superhero,” she said. “What about the Blakely Bakers?”
The girls winced.
“Why don’t you try this?” said Juliette. “What qualities do you want your club to embody? What should it represent? Who should belong to it?”
“No liars, bullies, or phonies,” Kylie replied.
“It’s about treating each other with respect,” said Sadie. “It’s about being a good friend and a good baker.”
“And don’t forget the cupcakes,” said Jenna, sampling a second.
Kylie thought hard. The purple peace sign she had doodled on her notebook cover gave her a great idea. “It’s about Peace…Love…and Cupcakes: PLC.”
Jenna, Lexi, and Sadie stared. “That’s it!” said Jenna. “That’s exactly it! Kylie, that’s perfect!”
Lexi quickly sketched a pink cupcake on a sheet of paper with the words “Peace, Love, and Cupcakes” written across the wrapper. On the frosting, she drew a purple peace sign. “Our logo,” she smiled.
“Cool!” the girls gushed.
“Now that you have a name for your club, there’s only one thing left to do,” said Juliette. “Let’s get your fabulous cupcakes out for everyone to taste. And I have the perfect way to do it.”