Ok, full disclosure. This really isn’t a blog about cupcakes. Don’t get me wrong – I have nothing against cupcakes. I love cupcakes! I’m just not particularly skilled at making them. The cake part always ends up too soft and the frosting too thick. Which means that once you unwrap one, it inevitably topples over from the globs of homemade buttercream I tried to fashion into tantalizing swirls using a Ziploc baggie with a hole cut out of one the corners.
I just know most people love cupcakes, so the reference in the name is a shameless ploy to get you to read my blog. (If you have any cupcake-making tips, though, feel free to pass them along. My children would appreciate eating a homemade cupcake that doesn’t look like a dog crapped on it first.)
I do love food, though. I love to cook food. I love to eat food. And I really love talking about food. Just ask my husband, who hates talking about food. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to start a blog. I needed a place where I can talk about food without watching someone’s eyes glaze over. Yours might. I just won’t see it.
But, to be clear, this isn’t just a blog about food. I am seven months shy of turning 40, which means I was born in the 70’s, raised in the 80’s and blossomed into womanhood in the 90’s. I wore unhealthy amounts of Debbie Gibson’s Electric Youth cologne. My favorite soap opera super couple will always be Jennifer Horton and Jack Deveraux. I still refer to Jared Leto as Jordan Catalano. My two beautiful daughters wouldn’t be here if my husband I both hadn’t loved Purple Rain and R.E.M.
This just means I’m more apt to write about how Dirty Dancing shaped my fragile pre-adolescent psyche than I am to write about what we had for dinner last night. I just want to keep my options open.
So, If you can forgive me for lying right off the bat, I promise to be completely honest with you about my views on pop culture, family life, food, and how great the 80’s and 90’s were. If you like these things and the musical stylings of Prince, we will get along just fine. Scouts honor. (Ok, I was also never a scout, but that was my last lie. I swear.)