A Fairy-Tale Birthday

The birthday girl.

     If you were Cinderella, this might be what your birthday party would look like. That, I suppose, makes me the wicked stepmother.
     Even the wicked stepmother, however, deserves a chance to give the backstory. Johanna turned 15 last week, which first of all, should be illegal, though it isn't as bad as 16, or -- heaven forbid -- 20. Geneva is the land of over-the-top kids' parties (a photo shoot followed by a ride in a taxi to dinner downtown, for example, or a fête on a yacht). While we like a good party, that kind of over-the-top is neither in our style or our budget. Fortunately, we have some creative children. This year, Johanna asked if she could have a Cupcake Wars party. Since I am not an avid watcher of the Food Network, this sounded to me like it involved throwing cupcakes. I was delighted to find that it actually involves baking cupcakes, though, as it turned out, that version is only slightly less messy than the food fight one.

Some of the ingredients. Unfortunately, I forgot to take a "before" picture, so this is also some of the mess.
I promise that the glass of wine did not belong to any of the children. It was also not a cupcake ingredient.

       Johanna, being who she is, has a dizzying variety of friends from school last year, church youth group, Bible Study, running, and random street corners. We attempted to divide the participants so that everyone was in a group with as many strangers as possible. Fortunately Johanna's friends, though diverse, are universally friendly and pleasant -- I do think expat kids tend to mix pretty well; it's a survival skill. We told the teams that they could win prizes for best team name, most delicious cupcake, and most attractive cupcake. Then we gave them an ingredient list, a mixer and bowls, a laptop (hey, this is the 21st century), and two hours to create the perfect cupcake.

Members of Team 1 (Coolest Cupcake Cuties) and Team 2 (The Cupcakinators) share the kitchen.

Team Three (The Cupcake Masters) tries to create an Oreo substitute using melted chocolate.

Team One comes up with a novel entry in the Most Attractive category.

Team Two is checking out the competition and discussing strategies.

I'm not sure whether this passed the taste test.

     I hung around to answer questions and supervise the actual baking. Since we live in a European house, we have one teeny oven that can cook one panful of cupcakes at a time. Nonetheless, we managed to bake more than 30 cupcakes. They were vanilla, chocolate, red velvet, and Coke-flavored -- that last a worthwhile experiment that failed to yield the hoped-for results.

Some of the aftermath -- above and below.

Some of the cupcakes that didn't make the final cut. They were, however, all gone before the evening was out.

      The judges were Lucas, me, and a friend who showed up too late to help with the cooking. The competition was fierce, and only some back-room politicking resolved our disputes. We had told the girls that we were going to judge the entires for each category based on merit, rather than trying to make sure each team won a prize. As it turned out, however, each team did win something. The best name went to Coolest Cupcake Cuties (though I voted for Cupcakinators -- Johanna told me that she knew I would, because it's kind of a oxymoron, and I like that kind of thing). The prize for taste went to a chocolate cupcake with vanilla frosting and raspberries. Again, I liked the vanilla cupcakes better, but Lucas insisted that they were too floury. I did get my way for the most attractive cupcake, an owl whose eyes were supposed to be made of Oreos. The team improvised with chocolate and frosting, and I thought the results were outstanding. Lucas kept calling it a penguin, but he was still willing to let it win.

The Most Attractive Cupcake.

The prizes -- beautiful and useful!

Another really attractive cupcake that didn't win.

The proud creators of the sheep.

A couple of delicious contestants.

      The party was fun, delicious, and also hands-down the messiest event we've ever held at our house. It took a few hours after the guests left to return the kitchen and living room to a nearly normal state, and I was cleaning stickiness off the drawer and cupboard handles for the next several days. We don't have any more big entertaining challenges on the horizon -- at least, I don't. Eric and his running buddies have organized a challenge they are calling the "Men of Men Dinners" (no idea, don't ask), wherein each of the dads has to plan, shop for, and prepare a meal for the three families. Eric is up first, and if you think of it, you can say a prayer for him. I just hope that in addition to planning, shopping, and cooking, the "Men of Men" with also be taking care of the cleaning. Otherwise, I'll be making an appeal to our resident Cinderella.