A Simple Nostalgia

           Reality television captivates audiences worldwide with programs attempting to record real life in almost every facet of humanity.  However, none of these programs that claim to accurately represent these aspects of humanity properly represent the subject.  In most cases, they form their own faulty representation of the world for purposes of entertainment.  Rather than sticking to what would actually happen in a given situation, producers go as far as scripting the “reality.”  Because producers want to make sure audiences are interested, many shows are designed to elevate reality to something it is not.  The Food Network and TLC are no exception.  Both Food Network and TLC provide multiple television shows that are supposed to represent the food world.  Shows such as Cupcake Wars and DC Cupcakes build a world in which the production of the perfect cupcake is critical, a representation that elevates and thereby changes the nature of cupcakes.

            The cupcake never started out as something complicated. In fact, cupcakes were intended to be simple, the reason for the creation of the cupcake being to cut down the time spent in the kitchen cooking.  Cupcakes came about in America during the 19^th century when baking shifted from weighing out ingredients to measuring them.  Cupcakes, due to their small size, cooked much quicker and were much more reliable than a larger cake.  In the large hearth ovens of the time, cakes would take forever to bake and would usually come out burnt.  The cupcake created a way for people to have the same product but without the time and trouble that accompanied a larger cake.  In addition to being easy to bake, the recipe for cupcakes was easy to remember.  Originally called “number cakes,” cupcakes were made with one cup of butter, two cups of sugar, three cups of flour, four eggs, one cup of milk, and one spoonful of baking soda.  Our society has changed the cupcake.  You can’t make a cupcake at home anymore.  Specialty cupcake shops are popping up all over the country, showing amateur bakers that the “number cake” cupcakes are not mainstream and that exotic flavors and decorations are now what a true cupcake is. Cupcakes have been elevated to an art form and like any art form, you need be specialized in order to create a legitimate product. Thus, you need to buy one from a bakery or specialty shop.  This move towards artistry has created standards for making a good cupcake when I could honestly enjoy a cupcake made with cake mix and some homemade icing slapped on with a butter knife much more.  What happened to cupcakes I made when I was a kid?

            A cupcake is a childhood staple.  I can remember eating cupcakes with frosting dripping down the sides because I was too impatient to wait for them to cool.  The insides of the cupcake would be so warm that they would make me feel as if I had just drunk a hot cup of cocoa.  There is a simplicity to the cupcakes we enjoy as children that has been lost in the way they are presented today.  There is more to a cupcake than presentation and the mixing of exotic flavors.  In today’s food world, programs like Cupcake Wars and DC Cupcakes have helped to complicate the simple matter of baking a cupcake.  It is as strange to me as if society had created regulations for finger-painting.  Something as simple and fun as making a cupcake with one’s parents has been turned into a much more complicated matter.  Of course there are no “cupcake police,” but the pressure to create the type of cupcakes seen in bakeries and on TV leads people to buying them instead of baking them on their own.  I don’t mean to say that a person is worse for not making his or her own cupcakes, but there is a simple nostalgia that accompanies homemade cupcakes.

            I’m ashamed to say I still crave cupcakes from a certain specialized bakery chain.  Even though I prefer homemade cupcakes, I still find myself occasionally falling victim to the ease of access and overwrought elegance of Gigi’s Cupcakes.  The cravings always start the same way.  It begins with me wanting something sweet, but not wanting to actually take the time to make something; I become impatient.  That’s when I look at Gigi’s list of cupcakes for the day.  As I scroll the page, pictures of decadent cupcakes with frosting mountains only heighten the cravings. I find many of the flavors and presentations interesting. If I can move past the condemnation of my boyfriend, I end up at Gigi’s where I then peruse the cupcakes I saw on the page in person.  Even though I usually consider buying one of the more complex or exotic cupcakes, I almost always end up buying a simple (as simple as Gigi’s can be), more reliable cupcake.  I hardly ever choose cupcakes I wouldn’t try to make at home.  I feel that my gravitation toward the simple cupcakes at Gigi’s shows my longing for something much simpler.

 It’s hard to pick my favorite Gigi’s cupcake, but the one I eat most is White Midnight Magic.  The dark chocolate cake is topped with about an inch and a half of cream cheese frosting upon which tiny dark chocolate chips are sprinkled.  When I eat this cupcake, I have to eat it with a fork or else it gets too messy.  The cake is moist, but it’s never warm and there is always a gratuitous amount of icing that has a thin, dry surface layer. The icing is creamy and sweet, but overly so.  At times, I find myself eating just the cake.  In fact, as I describe this cupcake, I find myself almost appalled.  I’m not sure I eat these cupcakes because they taste good, rather because they fulfill some weird sense of nostalgia.  A cupcake is cupcake no matter how different it looks.  Whether a cupcake is piled high with intricate decorations or slathered in icing from a can, it can still evoke those childhood memories.  In some way, I think the cupcake industry thrives on stirring up those memories.  The exploitation is subtle.  It aggravates me, but I understand that such is the natural progression of our society.  Nothing is left sacred.  I want to make it clear that I am not completely abhorred by the selling of cupcakes and I don’t want to sound as if I am, but I still find some fault in the loss of the simplicity and innocence.

Although part of a cupcake’s appeal is in making it, I wish bakeries didn’t act as if there was something to prove.  I wish I could go to a bakery and buy cupcakes that don’t look like masterpieces.  I want to be able to buy a cupcake that is warm in the center and has Funfetti icing just for those times I feel like being reminded of when I was younger, not some stale replica that has been bound by a push for publicity.  I wish cupcakes were simple.  I want my simple nostalgia.