A New Recipe
Amy Dearing reached across the bed and turned off the blaring alarm clock on the night table beside her. Wearing her flannel robe over her cotton pajamas, she walked through the living room to the small kitchenette of her apartment. Through the window above the sink, she noticed the light in her neighbor's living room was on.
It's 3:00 a.m. and he's still awake, she thought, with a slight twinge of envy. I can't remember the last time I stayed up after nine!
People often envied Amy because she owned her own business. They automatically assumed that if you were your own boss, you had it made. None of them realized she was up every morning at three and at the bakery by four so that when she opened at six, she would have a full supply of freshly baked and frosted cupcakes in her display cases. When she finally closed at six in the evening, she went straight home. Exhausted, there was little she could do with her three hours of personal time except eat dinner, shower and watch television. On Sundays she closed at three, but her Sunday afternoons were devoted to housework, bookkeeping and other necessary chores. The only day of the year that the bakery was not open was Christmas. On Thanksgiving and New Year's Day, she followed her Sunday schedule.
Even though her bakery was a mere three blocks from her apartment, Amy still had to stick to a tight schedule to be there by four. Having mastered the art of multitasking in college, she pressed the button on her Keurig with one hand, and with the other she reached into the cabinet for the box of cereal. In roughly five minutes, her simple breakfast was ready to eat.
As she munched on her Honey Nut Cheerios, she wondered how they would taste as topping for a cupcake. This was nothing new for Amy, who was always on the lookout for innovative flavors for her shop. While most bakeries stocked the usual fare, white cake or chocolate, some did offer a bit more variety including carrot and red velvet. Dearing's Sweet Cups, on the other hand, specialized in cupcakes and featured piña colada, peanut butter and banana, chocolate covered strawberry, hazelnut truffle and white chocolate lime, just to name a few. She was so creative in her flavors that she considered herself more of an artist than a baker. The cake was her canvas and the frostings, fillings, glazes and ganaches were her paints.
Adhering to her rigid timetable, the baker quickly rinsed out her coffee cup and cereal bowl and then put on her work clothes and her trademark pink apron. Lastly, she ran a brush through her short hair and a tube of lipstick over her lips. She was out of the apartment at 3:45 and unlocked the door of the bakery at 3:54.
Amy had not always wanted to be a business owner. Growing up, she longed to be a schoolteacher. In fact, she graduated college with a bachelor's degree in education and even received her teaching license. Then, just as she was about to enter the job market, the economy took a nosedive and she was unable to find a position. For a short time, she worked in the bakery department of a large grocery store but couldn't support herself on the low pay. She was actually considering going back to school to study for a career in the healthcare field when she decided to become a baker instead.
Although Dearing's Sweet Cups proved to be a profitable venture, Amy hadn't given up her dream of becoming a teacher. Where once she had altruistically wanted to educate young children and open their minds to the wonders of history, literature, science and mathematics, she now yearned for a job where she not only had weekends and holidays off, but would be on vacation for the entire summer.
I could have a life! she thought longingly. I would have time to read, go out with friends. I might even have the opportunity to travel.
Once her workday began, there was no time for daydreams. The KitchenAid mixers droned on and the ovens ran without cessation as Amy, working with the speed and efficiency of a robot, made pan after pan of her bestselling gourmet cupcakes as well as the more traditional flavors. It was as though she were a one-woman assembly line.
At 5:30, Mary Jane Saunders, who waited on customers while Amy toiled in the bakery's kitchen, arrived for work. The middle-aged woman donned her pink apron and helped her employer put the frosted cupcakes in the glass display cases. Then she filled the coffee pots, milk and cream pitchers and sugar bowls in the baker's self-serve coffee bar. Finally, she turned on the exterior lights and flipped the sign on the door to read OPEN instead of CLOSED. Moments later the day's first customer arrived. Since it was Monday, the slowest day of the week, Mary Jane was able to handle the morning rush without asking her boss for help.
At nine, when the steady stream of customers began to slow down to a trickle, Amy announced that she was going to the grocery store.
"Why? Didn't William bring the order today?" Mary Jane asked, knowing that every morning at 4:30, their supplier delivered enough flour, sugar, eggs, milk and spices to meet the bakery's needs.
"Yes. I've got all the staples. But I'm in the mood for creating a new flavor, and I thought I would get inspiration at the grocery store."
"Oh, please make it something with chocolate or peanut butter—or better yet, both!"
"But I already have a recipe for Reese's peanut butter cup cupcakes and another one for Butterfinger cupcakes."
"You can never have too much chocolate or peanut butter."
Dearing laughed and promised she would take the suggestion under consideration.
After a short walk to the grocery store, the baker got a shopping cart in the parking lot, entered the store and headed toward the produce section. She walked past the fruit with no interest. During the five years since opening her bakery, she had offered a wide range of cakes with raspberries, blueberries, peaches, kiwis and apples. In fact, her pineapple upside-down cupcakes, miniature strawberry shortcakes and lemon curd cupcakes were among her bestsellers. Even the vegetable aisles seemed boring. Amy had already experimented with zucchini, tomatoes, sweet potatoes, pumpkins and carrots. Once, she even won a baking contest with her beetroot chocolate cupcakes.
No, I need something different! Something no other bakery offers, she thought with mounting frustration.
The dairy aisle was another disappointment. Yogurt, pudding, sour cream, heavy cream, different varieties of cheeses. These were all ingredients she'd used before.
Snacks, candies and cookies were also redundant. Amy had already experimented with peanuts, pretzels, graham crackers, popcorn, licorice, caramels, toffee and marshmallow. She found clever ways of incorporating Hershey bars, Mounds, Snickers, Kit Kats, Raisinettes, M&M's and Reese's Pieces into her cupcakes and frostings. The same was true for Oreos, Nutter Butters, Ginger Snaps, Chips Deluxe, Lorna Doones and Vienna Fingers.
There must be SOMETHING I can use to create a new flavor!
In the absence of a fulfilling personal life, the need to create was vital to Amy. Offering something new on her menu was not only a source of pride but also added a much-needed sense of accomplishment in her monotonous existence.
It was in the canned goods aisle that the overworked baker—tottering on the verge of a panic attack—finally met her muse. She passed the canned fruits without looking at them. Peaches, pears, mandarin oranges, apricots—been there, done that. At first glance, the vegetables were only slightly less lackluster. Creamed corn, pumpkin, yams. Yawn!
No, no, no, NO!
Then Amy spied a can of sauerkraut. She once had tried German chocolate sauerkraut cake and enjoyed it. Surely, she could invent a unique recipe using many of the same ingredients.
* * *
Mary Jane was putting a dozen cupcakes into a cardboard box when her employer returned, empty-handed.
"Didn't see anything that looked interesting?" she asked as Amy walked to the coffee bar and poured herself a cup of French roast.
"On the contrary! My brain is bursting with ideas. I bought so many groceries that I couldn't carry them all. The manager is sending someone over with the bags. Ah, that's him now," she announced when she saw the stock boy pushing a shopping cart full of bagged groceries.
"Does that mean no chocolate and peanut butter?"
Amy smiled.
"I thought I'd use chocolate ganache and peanut butter frosting on a liver and onion cupcake. Doesn't that sound delicious?"
"Yummy!" Mary Jane laughed, assuming her employer was being facetious.
But she wasn't.
Since the lunchtime crowd was beginning to descend on the bakery, Mary Jane was unable to help Amy put the groceries on the shelves. If she had seen the items the baker purchased, she would have immediately come to the conclusion that her employer's creative streak was off-kilter. No one would think of using tuna fish in a sweet cupcake, much less mixing it with marshmallows and chocolate covered raisins.
It was only when Amy brought out a tray of hot dogs, sauerkraut and mustard cupcakes that Mary Jane first suspected her employer was non compos mentis.
"Isn't this a clever idea?" the baker asked, beaming with pride at her latest creation.
"A hot dog cupcake? You're joking, right?"
"No. It's my latest recipe. I bet we'll have a hard time keeping them on the shelves during the midday hours. It's like lunch and dessert all in one. Here, take a taste."
Mary Jane looked at the proffered cupcake as though it were laced with arsenic.
"I don't mean to sound rude, but that looks disgusting!"
"Well, not everyone likes hot dogs," Amy said and then took a bite, leaving a dollop of mustard frosting on her upper lip. "It's good. Maybe when I make the next batch, I'll try pickle relish instead of sauerkraut, thereby giving our customers a choice of toppings."
"What price do you want me to put on them?" Mary Jane asked, thinking even if her employer gave them away, no one would take them.
"The same as I charge for the other gourmet flavors: three dollars apiece."
"Three dollars? If our customers want a hot dog, they can get one at the pushcart on the corner for a dollar and a half!"
"But those hot dogs don't taste anything like my cupcakes."
I bet they don't, Mary Jane thought as she watched her employer load the repulsive-looking cakes into the display case.
* * *
Late Wednesday afternoon Amy carried another tray of experimental cupcakes out of the kitchen.
"Not more cupcakes!" Mary Jane exclaimed.
"That's what we sell, isn't it?"
"We've no room in the cases. They're still full from this morning."
"Has business been that slow?" the baker asked with surprise. "I wonder what's been keeping the customers away."
"People have been coming in and buying coffee all day, but no one has bought any cupcakes."
"That's odd! Has everyone suddenly gone on a diet?"
Mary Jane normally enjoyed her job and considered Amy more of a good friend than a boss, so what she had to say was difficult. She had no desire to hurt the other woman's feelings.
"Maybe you ought to make more of your signature recipes and fewer of your new ones."
"You mean I should stick to yellow cake with chocolate frosting and not try a more creative variety like fried shrimp and asparagus cupcakes with blueberry filling and barbecue sauce frosting?"
"What's wrong with flavors like raspberry white chocolate or sea salt and caramel? Those always sell out whenever you make them."
Amy looked at the glass cases full of cupcakes and frowned with disappointment.
"I suppose people are just unwilling to try something new. All right. Tomorrow I'll curb my creative urges and stick to those flavors people are familiar with."
"Good idea!" Mary Jane said with a smile. "I'm sure business will pick up again."
Usually when Amy locked up the bakery, she walked across the street to the bank and put the day's cash receipts in the night deposit drop box. However, with customers buying only cups of coffee, there wasn't much money in the till.
Disappointed with the poor reception her new recipes received, she decided to treat herself to Chinese takeout. After a hot, relaxing shower, she curled up on her couch in front of the TV with her container of General Tso's chicken and an egg roll that she dipped in duck sauce.
It was after 8:30 when she popped the last of the egg roll in her mouth. She looked at the fortune cookie—de rigueur at Chinese restaurants—and groaned.
I'm so stuffed I can't eat another bite.
After tossing the empty cardboard container into the trash, she washed her fork—she'd never mastered the art of chopsticks—and put the fortune cookie into her handbag. She would eat it at work the following day. Then, barely able to keep her eyes open, she went to bed and immediately fell asleep.
* * *
When Mary Jane entered the bakery early the following morning, she wasn't sure what she'd find. Had her employer really taken her advice or had she come up with another revolting combination guaranteed to make the customers lose their appetites? She sighed with relief when she saw the familiar and well-loved flavors in the glass cases.
"Good morning!" Amy called as she emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray of dark chocolate cupcakes topped with peanut butter frosting and Reese's Pieces. "I know this is one of your favorites."
"Can I lick the bowl from the icing?" her employee asked, like a little girl talking to her mother.
"You sure can."
Although the baker had had to throw out dozens of cupcakes the previous day, Thursday's brisk sales made up for the loss. Not only did the regular customers stop by for the usual cupcake-and-coffee combo, but there were an unusually high number of people purchasing cupcakes by the dozen.
Business was so good that Amy spent most of her morning helping her employee wait on customers.
It was after ten o'clock when Mary Jane said, "I think I can handle things on my own for now."
"Good. I've got to get back to the kitchen. We're running low on just about every flavor."
Not wanting to take the time to eat a proper lunch, Amy took the fortune cookie out of her handbag and ripped open the cellophane wrapper. As she munched on the crunchy treat, she read her fortune on the piece of paper that was hidden inside the cookie: NOW IS THE TIME TO TRY SOMETHING NEW.
It was like receiving a message from above. The baker emptied the mixer bowl full of lemon cake batter into the trash and went to the storage room in search of more exotic ingredients.
Twenty minutes later, with the bakery full of lunch-hour customers, Amy walked out of the kitchen carrying a tray of her latest gourmet cupcakes.
"You are all in for a treat," she announced loudly so everyone in the shop could hear here. "I've just invented a new recipe, and I want to invite everyone to have a free sample."
Naturally, at the prospect of free food, the customers quickly gathered around the baker.
"What flavor is it?" asked Nora Gilman, a frequent patron of the bakery.
"Strawberry Colada Sushi. The cupcake is made with raw fish, brown rice, chopped cucumber and tofu. The filling is pineapple jam, rum and spiced coconut. It's frosted with strawberry cream cheese icing flavored with soy sauce and wasabi. I've then topped each one off with a chocolate filled seaweed straw dipped in spiced sesame seeds."
Nearly half the customers that had surrounded her, immediately lost interest and walked away.
"Try one," Amy told Nora.
"No, thank you. I ... I'm allergic to seafood."
"How about you?" the baker asked the young man standing next to her.
"I'll pass, thank you. I prefer sweet cupcakes to savory ones."
The third customer didn't even offer a polite excuse. She simply curled up her nose in disgust and shook her head. Her seven-year-old son was even more honest, exclaiming, "Yuck!" when the tray was put in front of him.
"Won't any of you try one?" Amy asked, on the verge of tears.
Not a single volunteer stepped forward.
"You're all behaving like a bunch of children!" the baker shouted angrily. "You say you don't like something without even trying it."
Mary Jane tried to smooth over the volatile situation by offering the customers one free cupcake of their choice. Rather than being grateful, her boss was furious.
"These people don't deserve my cupcakes!" she screamed. "I'm the best baker in the state. My cupcakes have won awards. I'm an artist!"
Mrs. Gilman turned away and headed for the door. Moments later, the other customers followed suit.
"Good riddance!" Amy shouted and locked the door behind them.
* * *
The following day, as Ned Mullane was waiting for an oil change, he decided to walk down the street to the bakery to get a cup of coffee. He walked into the shop, expecting to be greeted by Mary Jane Saunders, an old friend from his high school days. There was no one behind the counter, however.
"Hello?" he called.
When he received no answer, he went to the coffee bar and poured himself a cup of Espresso. As he was adding half and half to his cup, he heard a sound behind him.
"Oh, hello," he said to the baker, who was carrying a tray of freshly baked cupcakes. "Mary Jane's not working today?"
"I need her in the kitchen," Amy explained. "I just can't keep up with the demand for cupcakes."
Ned looked at the display cases and was troubled by what he saw. Cupcakes were packed onto the shelves, three high. In some cases they were crammed in so tightly that the cakes were smashed and the icing smeared on the shelves.
"I think you have enough already."
"Don't be silly!" Amy said, giggling like a schoolgirl. "You can never have too many cupcakes. Besides, I've been bursting with creativity lately. Here, would you like to try one of my latest masterpieces?"
"Sorry, but I'm on a diet."
"Go ahead. It's a tiramisu cupcake. If you've never had tiramisu, it consists of ladyfingers dipped in espresso, layered with a mascarpone cheese and then sprinkled with cocoa powder. I was experimenting with some unusual flavors, but then Mary Jane said if I didn't go back to more traditional flavors, I'd have to close the bakery. So I had no choice but to take her advice."
"I do love tiramisu ...," Ned said, his willpower faltering. "Maybe one won't hurt."
He reached for a cupcake but suddenly held his hand.
"Is that blood?" he asked.
"That's Mary Jane, for you! I suppose I'll have to keep her out of the kitchen."
Amy picked up the blood-spattered cupcake and tossed it in the trash.
"The do look delicious," Ned said and selected a second cupcake on the opposite side of the tray from the contaminated one.
The smell of coffee, cocoa and mascarpone put a dreamy look of anticipation on Ned's face. He bit into the cupcake, hoping the taste would warrant his cheating on his diet. When his teeth came into contact with the hard center of the cupcake, his expression became one of puzzlement. What was he chewing on? He looked at the uneaten portion in his hand, and his eyes widened with horror. The ladyfingers Amy had used in the tiramisu cupcake were actual human fingers.
As Ned leaned over the trash can to vomit up the half-eaten bloody cupcake in his mouth, the insane baker hit him over the head with her heavy, metal baking tray. She continued to batter him until he was dead. Then she dragged the body to the kitchen where he, like his old school friend, Mary Jane Saunders, would become an ingredient in one of her new gourmet cupcakes.
This story is for Kelly, who always talks about opening a cupcake bakery.
It's no surprise that Salem loves cupcakes. His favorite flavor is Friskies mixed grill with catnip frosting.
