Identity Crisis

So, I had a bit of an identity crisis. While making my second batch of homemade cupcakes, I thought to myself,  "could it be that I love baking more than cooking? I'm not a baker. I don't make little fondant flowers. I don't know the difference between all-purpose, pastry, and cake flour! I don't even own a mixer! But something just feels...so right. I am not a detail oriented person. I like creating dishes as I go, adding a little bit of this or a dash of that. Baking is too much like chemistry. One misstep and the whole thing blows up. I don't measure ingredients perfectly, mix for the right amount of minutes, and fold the batter when it's at its most delicate point... Do I? Gasp! Who have I become??? Maybe the ADD inside of me has just been craving for structure all along! Maybe the free flowing me and flexible structure of cooking are just too malleable to ever bond together into a solid foundation!"

Then after two trips to the grocery store (once for sugar... then back for powdered sugar), experimenting with the delicate balance of icing sweetness, and the odd art of food coloring, I came back to reality. I am definitely NOT a baker. I couldn't wait to throw some leftovers into a fried rice "goulash" without measuring one damn thing! Phew, it felt good!

My cupcake whirlwind:

Vanilla cake with buttercream icing. (Should be a cinch, right?)

Yellow cake batter

FYI: Homemade batter is a lot of work! Why didn't I use Betty Crocker?

Cupcake scoops

Pink food coloring about to be mixed in my buttercream icing

Wowza! That's Pink!

Let's tone it own, like Jenny says.

Good Piping:

Bad Piping:

Lemon Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Icing:
(I shamelessly give credit to Betty for the cake mix)

Please note the adorable owl wrappers.

Well, I guess I quickly averted my crisis. No, I will never be a baker, although making yummy treats is really fun once it's over and it's easier to share a cupcake with a friend than sharing spaghetti and meatballs. No, I will continue my madness of experimental cooking. I don't know what got into me; I guess the sugar just went to my head.