Miniature Black-Bottom Cupcakes

June 26, 2020

For many people, the name Mrs. Smith is synonymous with frozen apple pie. Apples might also come to mind when you think of Granny Smith. But for me it conjures memories of my grandmother Dorothy, also known to me as Granny. Born in 1918, the same year women were granted the right to vote as well as the year of the last major pandemic to affect the United States, Granny Dorothy lived through a fast-moving century filled with war, innovation, and struggle. She was impacted by her family’s experience during the Great Depression. She had immense pride in her two sons and served as our family matriarch following the untimely death of her husband. She never drove a car, relying on taxis, buses, and later the light rail for transportation. She held close relationships with her siblings and was devastated when each passed before her. Her grandchildren, and later her great-grandchildren, were the apples of her eye.

My father lived with his mother during most of my childhood. Because they were geographically distant from my main home, I spent large chunks of time there during vacations and holidays. Granny had retired from her department store job by then, and my father worked full time so I spent most of my days with Granny. When I picture her she is always in motion, if not doing something specific then fidgeting. Her movements often reminded me of kneading bread or some other shaping technique – there seemed to be a push/pull rhythm to them.

Granny baked and made confections. Every Christmas and Easter her loved ones received boxes filled with cookies and candies. She knew each of our favorites and we each got a little extra of those items. She kept her stash in wax paper-lined cookie tins in her hall closet. If she caught you eyeing the closet, or worse – IN the hall closet, there would be questions! Sweets were parceled out as after-dinner dessert and “for company;” each cookie could be accounted for in her mental ledger. Most of my extended family could tell you at least one story about a time they got caught trying to snitch an extra treat and we all joked about how she must have had an alarm on that closet door.

Cookies and candies were for holidays, but there were other indulgences to be had. Granny was the architect of my greatest baked creation to-date, a double layer coconut cake with red jelly hearts I proudly presented to my father on Valentine’s Day when I was 12. Despite being an excellent cake baker, in my mind her signature item was miniature black-bottom cupcakes. Those little morsels of creamy chocolate goodness stand above all the rest for me. I most associate the cupcakes with attending our annual family reunion, which we call “The Cousins Party.” I have vivid childhood memories of the dessert table at those parties and can see the cupcakes set out waiting to be enjoyed.

Since my grandmother’s passing over a decade ago one of her nieces has taken over the black-bottom cupcake contribution to the dessert table. Each year that I am able to attend we taste them together and decide how close they are to the original that year. Of course, they are always delicious. The acknowledgement that they are somehow “different” is more of an acknowledgement that we, our family, is different, altered by those no longer with us but in our hearts. Geographic distance still separates me from my extended family, and it is a special honor when I get slipped a care package full of cupcake love as I make my way home.

Food serves as a tie that binds us together to our history and our memories with one another. A taste, a smell -- they bring us back to a moment in time long past. I have shared here some personal stories which are special to me, but they are not unique to my family. The rationing of sweet treats ties to a deep fear of scarcity my grandmother and many in her generation felt due to the Depression. The passing of the cupcake “torch” to the next generation and the expression of love and closeness shown in making a cherished food are but one way families keep their memories and family narratives alive.

Mini size: 60 servings

Ingredients

1.5 C. flour

1/4 C. unsweetened cocoa

1/2 t. salt

1 C. cold water

1 T. vinegar

1 C. sugar

1 t. baking soda

1/3 C. cooking oil

Topping

1 (8 oz.) softened cream cheese

1/3 C. sugar

1 C. (6 oz.). chocolate chips

1 egg

1/8 t. salt

Cake: Mix flour, sugar, cocoa, soda and salt. Add remaining ingredients. Beat until well-blended. Pour into lined mini muffin cups, filling 1/3 full.

Topping: Combine all topping ingredients, blend well. Top each cupcake with a tablespoonful of topping.

Bake: 350 for 14 minutes.

*To keep the family peace I must include a notation here that these can and should also be made as full-size cupcakes, which is how my mother makes them. Use a lined muffin tin and bake at 350 for 25-30 minutes (yield 24).

Amy Smith, a Media & Communication professor at Salem State University, researches at the intersection of feminism and community.