Vanilla Beaned

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Vanilla Beaned Page 22

by Jenn McKinlay


  She and Joe exchanged stricken looks.

  “I can’t believe this! I can’t even elope right. Oh, my god, my mother is going to kill me,” Mel said.

  Recipes

  Vanilla Beaned

  A Vanilla Cupcake with Vanilla Bean Buttercream Frosting

  Cupcakes

  2½ teaspoons baking powder

  ¼ teaspoon salt

  2½ cups flour

  ¾ cup butter, softened

  1½ cups sugar

  2 eggs

  1½ teaspoons vanilla extract

  1¼ cups milk

  Frosting

  ½ cup (1 stick) salted butter, softened

  ½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened

  1 teaspoon clear vanilla extract

  1 vanilla bean with the seeds scraped out, use the seeds discard the bean pod

  4 cups sifted confectioner’s sugar

  2 tablespoons milk

  To make cupcakes: Preheat oven to 350º. Line muffin tins with 24 paper liners, and set aside. In medium bowl, sift together baking powder, salt, and flour, and set aside. In another bowl, cream butter and sugar at medium speed, add eggs, and beat until smooth. Beat in vanilla extract. Alternately add dry ingredients and milk, beating until smooth. Fill cupcake liners ⅔ full. Bake until golden brown, about 20 minutes. Makes 24.

  To make frosting: In large bowl, cream butter. Add vanilla extract and vanilla bean seeds. Gradually add sugar, one cup at a time, beating well on medium speed, adding milk as needed. Scrape sides of bowl often. Beat at medium speed until light and fluffy. Keep bowl covered with damp cloth until ready to use. Makes 3 cups.

  Frost cooled cupcakes with vanilla buttercream.

  Snickerdoodle Cupcakes

  A Vanilla Cinnamon Cupcake with Cinnamon Buttercream Frosting

  Cupcakes

  3 cups flour

  1 tablespoon baking powder

  ½ teaspoon salt

  2 teaspoons cinnamon

  1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened

  1¾ cups sugar

  4 large eggs, room temperature

  2 teaspoons vanilla

  1¼ cups milk

  Frosting

  ½ cup (1 stick) salted butter, softened

  ½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened

  1 teaspoon clear vanilla extract

  1 teaspoon cinnamon

  4 cups sifted confectioner’s sugar

  2 tablespoons milk

  2 tablespoons granulated sugar, for dusting

  ½ teaspoon cinnamon, for dusting

  To make cupcakes: Preheat oven to 350º. Line muffin tins with 24 paper liners, and set aside. In medium mixing bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon, and set aside. In large mixing bowl, cream together butter, sugar, eggs, and vanilla. Alternate adding dry ingredients from medium bowl and milk into large mixing bowl until batter is smooth. Fill cupcake liners to ¾ full. Bake for 18 to 20 minutes until golden brown. Makes 24.

  To make frosting: In large bowl, cream butter. Add vanilla and cinnamon. Gradually add sugar, one cup at a time, beating well on medium speed. Scrape sides of bowl often. Add milk, and beat at medium speed until light and fluffy. Keep bowl covered with damp cloth until ready to use. Makes 3 cups.

  Frost cupcakes. In small mixing bowl, stir together granulated sugar and cinnamon and sprinkle over freshly frosted cupcakes so that sugar and cinnamon will set.

  The Elvis

  A Banana Cupcake with Peanut Butter Frosting

  Cupcakes

  1½ cups flour

  1½ teaspoons baking powder

  ¼ teaspoon baking soda

  ¼ teaspoon cinnamon

  ⅛ teaspoon salt

  1 egg

  1 cup mashed bananas (3 medium)

  ¾ cup sugar

  ¼ cup cooking oil

  1 teaspoon vanilla

  Frosting

  1 cup butter, softened

  1 cup creamy peanut butter

  4 cups powdered sugar

  ¼ cup milk

  2 teaspoons vanilla

  To make cupcakes: Preheat oven to 350º. Line muffin tin with 12 paper liners, and set aside. In medium mixing bowl, combine flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt, and set aside. In another bowl, combine egg, bananas, sugar, oil, and vanilla. Add wet mixture into dry mixture all at once and stir until just moistened. Do not overmix. Spoon batter evenly into prepared liners and bake for 20 to 22 minutes. Makes 12.

  To make frosting: In medium mixing bowl, cream together butter and peanut butter. Add powdered sugar, one cup at a time, and alternate with milk and vanilla. Stir until smooth.

  Frost cupcakes.

  Cherry Cola Cupcakes

  A Chocolate Cola Cupcake with Cherry Cola Buttercream Frosting

  Cupcakes

  1½ cups all-purpose flour

  ¼ teaspoon baking soda

  2 teaspoons baking powder

  ¾ cup unsweetened cocoa powder

  ⅛ teaspoon salt

  ½ cup (1 stick) butter, softened

  1 cup sugar

  2 eggs

  ⅓ cup Maraschino cherry juice

  1 cup cola

  Frosting

  ½ cup (1 stick) salted butter, softened

  ½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened

  1 tablespoon Maraschino cherry liquid

  4 cups sifted confectioner’s sugar

  2 tablespoons cola

  red food coloring (optional)

  12 Maraschino cherries

  To make cupcakes: Preheat oven to 350º. Line muffin tin with 12 paper liners, and set aside. Sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, cocoa, and salt, and set aside. In large bowl, cream together butter and sugar until well blended. Add eggs one at a time, beating well with each addition, then stir in cherry juice. Add flour mixture alternately with cola; beat well. Fill cupcake liners evenly and bake for 18 to 20 minutes. Makes 12.

  To make frosting: In large bowl, cream butter. Add cherry juice. Gradually add sugar, one cup at a time, beating well on medium speed. Scrape sides of bowl often. Add cola and red food coloring (optional) and beat at medium speed until light and fluffy. Makes 3 cups.

  Frost cooled cupcakes and garnish with Maraschino cherry on top.

  Turn the page for a special preview of Jenn McKinlay’s next Library Lover’s Mystery . . .

  BETTER LATE THAN NEVER

  Coming soon in hardcover from Berkley Prime Crime!

  “Let the wild rumpus start!” Beth Stanley cried as the cart of books she had stacked to bursting abruptly regurgitated its contents all over the Briar Creek Public Library’s main floor with a loud rushing noise followed by slaps and thumps as the books landed on the ground.

  “Shhh!” Ms. Cole hissed. She was an old school librarian, nicknamed the lemon because of her frequently puckered disposition, who was in charge of the circulation of materials for the small library located in a small town in coastal Connecticut.

  “Sorry, I tried to stop it but I couldn’t hold it in,” Beth said. She was wearing a crown and carrying a sparkling scepter, which was really a bejeweled cardboard tube from a roll of wrapping paper with a tissue paper flower sticking out of the end.

  Lindsey Norris noted the tail pinned to the back of her yoga pants and the pointy ears poking out beneath her crown. With her short, dark hair styled in wild disarray, Beth bore a remarkable resemblance to Max the character she was representing.

  “Where the Wild Things Are for story time?” Lindsey guessed.

  “Best story time book ever,” Beth said.

  “Brilliant! I love Maurice Sendak,” Paula Turner said.

  “No one asked you,” Ms. Cole said. Her glance was frosty as she took in her part-time clerk with und
isguised suspicion.

  Paula was the library’s newly hired clerk, and with her sleeve of colorful arm tattoos and long hair dyed a deep purple, she had been a challenge for the conservative Ms. Cole to supervise from day one.

  “That’ll do, people,” Lindsey said. She was the director of the small library and tried to maintain some semblance of order. “We have three more loaded book trucks coming in. We need to make room behind the desk.”

  “There is no more room,” Ms. Cole said. Her tone was as dry as butterless toast, and if she were anyone else, Lindsey might have thought she was teasing. Ms. Cole was not.

  A monochromatic dresser, Ms. Cole was all in black today as if she were in mourning. Lindsey figured she probably was, given that they were holding their first annual fine amnesty day, which went against everything in which Ms. Cole believed.

  She was a punitive sort, who enjoyed using fines and shushing to curb their patrons’ naughty behavior. Lindsey had been trying to get her to roll with the times for a couple of years now. It was a battle.

  “Why don’t we get the crafternoon ladies to help?” Beth suggested. She was picking up the books that had fallen off her cart. Lindsey and Paula helped her. Ms. Cole did not.

  “In what way?” Lindsey asked. She stacked the books back on the cart.

  “They can fine sort the book trucks that are already checked in, which will make room for the new ones,” Beth said. “In fact, if we wheel the trucks to the meeting room, we can do that while we discuss our book of the week.”

  “They are not cleared to work in the library,” Ms. Cole protested.

  “Drastic times,” Lindsey said. She looked at Paula and Beth. “Let’s wheel the checked-in carts to the crafternoon room to make room for the incoming.”

  “I really must protest,” Ms. Cole said.

  “Of course you do,” Lindsey said. She met Ms. Cole’s upset gaze with her own and tried to channel her inner calm. “Answer me this, do you have a better idea?”

  “You mean aside from never having another fine amnesty day ever again?” the lemon asked. “No.”

  “Then to the crafternoon room it is,” Lindsey said.

  She, Beth, and Paula each took a cart and pushed it to the back room, where the crafternoon ladies met every Thursday afternoon to eat, discuss a book, and work on a craft.

  As they entered, they found Nancy Peyton and Violet La Rue already in place on the comfy couches placed in the center of the room. Violet had been in charge of the food today, so it was ham and cheese sliders, potato soup, and a veggie platter.

  Lindsey felt her stomach rumble. She tried to remember the last time she’d eaten. It must have been last night because when she’d arrived at the library this morning, the book drop had been full to bursting. She’d skipped breakfast to help unload it and hadn’t had a chance to think about eating since.

  “What’s this?” Nancy asked as the parade of carts appeared.

  Nancy was Lindsey’s landlord as well as one of her crafternoon buddies. A widow, Nancy had inherited her old captain’s house when her husband, Jake, went down with his ship many years ago. Nancy then made it into a three-family house and rented out the top two floors. Lindsey lived on the third while Nancy’s nephew, Charlie Peyton, lived on the second.

  “How married are you to the idea of doing a craft today?” Lindsey asked.

  “Not very, why?” Violet asked.

  She was dressed in her usual jewel-toned caftan, which made her dark complexion glow. A retired Broadway actress, Violet had an innate grace and flair that, despite her gray hair, which she wore scraped into a tight bun at the back of her head, made her seem eternally youthful. Truly, she could command a room like nobody’s business. Right now, her tone was cautious. Smart lady.

  “I’m throwing myself on your mercy,” Lindsey said. She bowed with her arms out in obeisance just so they would know she was sincere. “We are so far behind on sorting the books that have been returned, we may never catch up. Would you ladies be willing to help us get these trucks in order?”

  Nancy and Violet exchanged a glance. The two ladies were longtime best friends and Lindsey knew they communicated without words. It was no surprise to her when they both faced her and answered at the same time.

  “Yes, of course,” they said together.

  “Is Ms. Cole going to come in here and yell at us for eating near the books?” Violet asked. “Because that would be a problem for me.”

  “So long as we don’t eat over the books, I think we’ll be okay,” Lindsey said.

  “Food, I need food!” Mary Murphy hustled into the room with Charlene La Rue right behind her.

  “Girl, every time I see you, you are either eating or napping,” Nancy said. “Are you feeling all right?”

  She moved to stand beside the food table and loaded a plate for Mary before the woman even had her jacket off.

  “Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Mary said. “Just storing up for winter, you know, like a squirrel.”

  “It’s May,” Violet said. “You keep packing it in like this and you’ll be able to hibernate for two winters.”

  “Heh-heh.” Mary laughed uneasily and her gaze darted to Lindsey.

  Lindsey smiled at her to let her know her secret was still safe. The truth was Mary was pregnant with her first child. Lindsey had figured it out, but the others were still clueless. Lindsey had promised Mary she wouldn’t say a word to anyone, including Mary’s brother, Sully, who Lindsey had an on and off again sort of relationship with, so Mary’s news and the fact that Lindsey knew about it made things a teensy bit complicated.

  Charlene La Rue paused beside her mother, Violet, to kiss her cheek. Charlene had inherited her mother’s slender grace and beauty, but instead of going into theater, Charlene was a television reporter in New Haven. With the career and the husband and kids, her schedule was packed to bursting but she kept her crafternoon Thursday commitment because it was one of the few times she got to spend with her mother and talk about something besides the children.

  Thankfully, everyone was on board with fine sorting the books while they discussed their book of the week, Nathanial Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter.

  It took three trips to bring all the extra carts into the crafternoon room, but once they were in, they all took a cart and began arranging the books for shelving.

  “Question,” Charlene asked. “How far do I go following the Dewey number?”

  “Meaning?” Beth asked.

  “Can I just lump all the 398.2 books together, or do I go all the way to the letter that follows?” Charlene asked.

  Lindsey glanced at Beth and said, “I still believe in 398.2—how about you?”

  Beth laughed. Mary and the others frowned.

  “I don’t get it,” Nancy said.

  “I do.” Charlene glanced up from her cart. “Judging by these books, 398.2 is the base number for fairy tales. Won’t Sully and Robbie be happy to know that she still believes in happy ever after.”

  “Ah, yes, but who will be her Prince Charming?” Violet asked.

  “Oh, no,” Lindsey said. “There is no charming anyone for me. Thank you very much.”

  She shook her head back and forth to emphasize her point. She’d been keeping her personal life on the down low and had no intention of sharing any information until she knew where it was going. “We are not discussing my love life or lack thereof, not when we have Beth’s new relationship to dissect and discuss.”

  “Way to throw me under the gossip train,” Beth said. Then she grinned. “But since you asked, Aidan is wonderful. He’s funny and smart, handsome and kind.” She sighed. “I’ve never been happier.”

  The woman positively glowed and Lindsey was pretty sure her crown sparkled for real. The other ladies all sighed with her, and Lindsey was relieved to have successfully distracted them.

  “Ha
s the L word been used yet?” Mary asked through a mouthful of ham and cheese.

  “Not yet,” Beth said. She fretted her lower lip between her teeth. “Should it have been? We’ve been dating for three months. Who says it first? Should I say it first? I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

  “It should just come naturally,” Nancy said.

  “She’s right, but I’d wait and let him say it first,” Charlene said. “I knew I was in love with Martin after the first two months, but I let him take the lead on the L word. Men can be pretty skittish about declarations of love.”

  “Ian said it first,” Mary said. “Of course, I didn’t really have a chance since he said ‘I love you’ the very first moment he saw me. I think our meeting went something like me saying, ‘Hi, I’m Mary,’ to which he replied, ‘Yes, I’ll marry you. I’ve been madly in love with you since you walked through the door five seconds ago.’”

  Lindsey laughed. She could see Ian doing just that. Mary was a lovely woman with thick curls of red-brown hair and sparkling blue eyes and Ian was, well, not so much of a looker. But he had personality by the bucketful and he adored his wife, which Mary never took for granted.

  “Speaking of the L word and relationships, here’s my question about the book,” Nancy said. “What does a strong female like Hester see in a spineless sniveler like Dimwit?”

  “Dimmesdale,” Violet said.

  “Whatever,” Nancy said. “I hated him.”

  “I think that was the point. Hawthorne portrays him as weak and Hester as strong even though she’s treated very badly for adultery while he hides behind his position and does nothing to protect her,” Charlene said. “What did you think of him, Mary?”

  “Huh?” Mary asked through a mouthful of soup.

  “What did you think about Dimmesdale?”

  Mary looked chagrined. “No idea. I didn’t finish the book. Frankly, when I got to Hawthorne’s eighth use of the word ignominy, I quit.”

  Beth started to laugh and the others joined in.

 

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