This week I had an order for 20 chocolate and 20 vanilla cupcakes for a lovely woman, Erica. It was her birthday and she was having a party at her beautiful home in Islington. As it was an adult party with both men and women the brief was "sophisticated" and "not girly" as you have probably noticed by my previous posts of 'happy hippo cupcakes' and 'cake burgers' sophistication isn't exactly my speciality, but I was up for the challenge. I decided to keep the cakes simple but use really good ingredients and keep all decoration to a minimum e.g. no glitter or pastel coloured icing (sad face). I really enjoyed making these cupcakes as the quantity was manageable and the recipes were simple, I could just let my mind wander and let my hands do all the work. However, this tranquility was short-lived.
The next day I had to deliver them, they had to be in Islington by 6pm...in London rush hour. Everything was going smoothly until I got to the Victoria Line platform of the Underground, the platform was unusually squashed with people and the board said "TRAIN HELD". 40 chocolate-based cupcakes in stifling heat waiting for a train to not be held isn't a great combination and one that was frankly starting to panic me. I crammed on the tube and this lovely old man with a walking stick guarded the cake box from one side and I straddled it from the other, we were a magnificent team. I leaped off the train at Highbury and Islington station and made my way to Erica's house, in the hullabaloo of everything I had forgotten to put my glasses on and proceeded to walk straight past the road I had to turn down. I got directions off a traffic warden and speedily walked to Erica's house, with about two minutes to spare. When I arrived the house was absolutely overwhelming, mansion-like and immaculately decorated I plonked the cakes down on a very large table and Erica, noticing how out of breath I was kindly gave me a glass of water. Luckily the cakes were well received and only one had got slightly mushed in transit.
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