Bunk the Junk

Cakes can walk the talk!

This is a dated post, but I INSIST on sharing it.

Swati and I baked cupcakes for Maya’s 3rd birthday celebrations. It was Swati’s hand that was doing the culinary talking and my mouth with the ingredients to befriend them. It was Bunk the Junk’s first assignment, Swati and me cooking together for the first time, my first baking experience, my first photo shoot with Revant (Swati’s son… christened as Revanthadu, couldn’t help but give his name an Andhra assortment)  and the incredible win of Mumbai Indians (not their first). What a team treat… in more ways than one.

I took my first baby steps into the kitchen to be introduced to a squad of strangers… wheat flour as against the predictable maida, master blaster Wakefield cocoa powder, coffee powder (Café cake day), baking molds, cup liners, baking oven with a disciplined timer (love its timer tone and it religiously returned me to the kitchen in between strategic tie-ups). The list is endless like Pollard’s rain of runs on that humid day.

Inspite of Swati’s warm welcome ceremony, not every ingredient was forthcoming towards me. I was excited to be in their company and Swati was effortless with them. In fact, the ingredients were holding on to her like a child to a mother when confronted by a stranger. Kewal (Swati’s husband) further played peace maker, pacifier and the icing creator. The ready to be cracked egg misbehaved by sheepishly dropping his little shell piece in the beating bowl. My eyes caught it just before I blinked but my fingers struggled for a good 5 minutes to spot it. I had to sweet-talk and finally adopt it as my ‘babuu’ before it conceded defeat. Whew!!!

Swati was a patient spectator to this drama and like a true mentor guided and explained the baking recipe, rules and rituals. As we moved on, the rising Celsius degrees of the baking oven was equivalent to the apparatus thawing to me. The sugar was now grinding faster and finer, almost managed hairline crack with the eggs (felt like Karbonn Kamaal catch winner), and the rhythmic flow of the milk with chocolate/coffee/ground sugar mix in the beating bowl was creating an orchestrated music. In the background, the cheer girls were actually dancing to this tune.

As the night passed, the baking batter gave me the ‘apron of approval’. I was now the proud orange cap winner. Gradually, in a batch of 12, the batter found residence in the cup liners which lounged themselves in the baking molds. The heat flirted with the batter within the oven walls and created sensuous dance in our taste buds outside the walls. Without getting carried away by this tantalising tease, we let out feet do the talking. The oven fresh cupcakes were cradled for cooling and we were set for a replay till we reached a score of 40. I personally grew friendlier with every batch of 12 and so did the squad of ingredients. They started sending me Facebook friend requests and I was quick to confirm them.

It was time to retire for the night and wake up to create icing in Disneyland. When we woke up, the baked cakes rose like the bright risen sun and needed little diamonds looking up at the sky. The cakes posed a well-toned body with chiseled muscles at the right places. Here comes the sexy part. Creating icing cream in different tones and textures is the most therapeutic unison experience. I partly helped Swati by holding the cone while Kewal and she laced the cakes with creative imagination.  Pink paradise, blue bliss, purple pastels and white wishes icing shades adorned as cupcake crowns. Wow!!! It just got better and sexier with chocolate shavings sprinkled on them. The sprinkle created a twinkle in our eyes.

Just few more tail ends to achieve the taste ends. We quickly treated ourselves with few bites and pleasantly surprised ourselves. Aunty (Swati’s mother-in-law) asked us to thank God, seek his blessings and we obliged.

One last thing, create Disney touch of land. I stuck Disney character stickers on each of the pulp wood skewers. They found their due place on the cupcakes just before being served to a stadium of 40 kids.

Time to pack the cup cakes. Bunk the Junk begins. We let the cupcakes to do the talking!

Happy Birthday Maya.