My sister and I currently have a bet on as to who can lose 5 pounds faster. We are motivated by a wedding we are attending this weekend in Vegas. I have a sexy size 4 black dress I need to get into and being surrounded by cupcakes and other treats is not helping the situation.
I came into work today, all pumped up, having gone to spin class this morning and ready to keep the diet going. I see Alex in the corner, scarfing away on something. I was excited, ”Oh, what are you eating Alex? Those brownies sure look tasty!”
I came closer and I see a big plate in front of her and it is filled with pickles. “What, this is your meal?”
“Yep”, she says, ”I love pickles for lunch! Its a perfect meal, savory and crunchy, what else?”
So I ask you, how do I compete with a 24 year old who is satisfied with pickles for lunch???
peace.love (yes love!).food.
SN
Monk and I have been in a fight for about a week now. It started when we got a call from the food network telling us that they enjoyed our interview and had some follow up questions. Since that time we have adopted a new chant around here which goes something like, “Food network! Food network! Food network!” Not too creative but fun nonetheless.
One day, as Alex was dancing around Monk with her little ditty, he said very seriously, “I’m not doing it.”
Her smile faded away, “What do you mean you are not doing it?”
“No,” Monk said, “I’ve decided, I’m not doing it.”
I heard this exchange and went into the kitchen, “What do you mean you are not doing it?”
“I’m not doing it.”
“Why? This is your dream, isn’t it? Or were you just saying that?” See, now I really don’t know. I have found that people will say what they think you want to hear, especially when they want something like a job, a promotion, food, sex…
“I just don’t want to do it.”
“Well this is part of your job description. It clearly reads that if we are ever approached to be on the food network, top chef or any other tv show, you are to appear and be entertaining. If you don’t do this then I can fire you.” I was totally joking of course.
“You are going to fire me either way if we lose.”
Oh I see, its just low self esteem, questioning his skills, no confidence in his abilities. Maybe I just need to boost his ego a bit. “Monk, you are amazing. You are the best cupcake baker ever. There is nothing to worry about. Even if we lose, just the fact that we got on is fantastic!”
“No, I’m still not doing it. I will have to do all the work and you will just sit there looking pretty.”
Oh, afraid the pretty face doesn’t know how to work hard. Really, how long have you known me??? “I will work just as hard as you. We will be a great team. You will bake, I will frost, it will be perfect!”
“No, I’m still not doing it and I’m not talking about it any more.”
Stubborn ass. I love him but he pisses me off just the same. I gave up. Walked away and told him I can’t talk to him anymore until he agrees to go on the show. Hard to do though given I am his boss. Every time I say anything to him he responds with, “I thought you weren’t talking to me?”
Like a child, I’m telling you. I have 3 amazing sons, a beautiful man in my life and all of these boys that surround me each and every day at work, and still, I do not understand them. What motivates men besides sex and food? I really want to know. Because I can motivate Monk all day long with food but its going to have to end there, know what I’m saying? Sometimes men act like us women are the complicated ones but a good pair of sexy designer jeans will keep me satisfied for a long time. Whatever you want baby, you got it.
Oh well, I will figure him out. I will find a way to unlock his inner drive, his passion, his desire. And after all that, wouldn’t it just be a kick in the pants if we didn’t get on?
peace.love.food.
SN
Birthday Cupcake
People love to tell me their stories about crushcakes, when they had their first crush, what it meant to them, how they share the experience with others and so on. Although the stories are usually very interesting, one story I recently heard has really stuck with me. A couple weeks ago I was at the gym and a girl came up to me, “Hi, are you the owner of Crushcakes?”
“Yes I am.”
“Well”, she says, “I always see you here and never wanted to bother you but I just had to tell you something.” She spoke very quickly, as if I would run away into the weight room or something before she could get it all out. “Right when you opened Crushcakes about 2 years ago, I couldn’t wait to come in. But my husband had just joined the service and we had no money. I would stare into your windows and look at the cupcakes and they were all so beautiful. The day my husband shipped out to Afghanistan, we finally came in and shared one cupcake. It was all we could afford.” I was trying not to look emotional, but wow, right?? Wait, there’s more…
“Nine months later I gave birth to my daughter. She was born on February 2nd. My husband was only able to take leave for 30 days, so he has only spent that much time with her. 30 days. But now he is coming back soon. And we want to celebrate our daughters 1st birthday by coming into Crushcakes for her birthday cupcake!”
OMG…”That is quite a story. I am really touched that Crushcakes meant so much to you and your family. Did you say that your daughters birthday is February 2nd?”
“Yes.”
“That is Crushcakes birthday too! Come celebrate with us!”
And they did. Daddy made it all the way from Afghanistan and I got to meet the family and hear more of their stories. They had cupcakes, we made their daughter a balloon and daddy told me how he was preparing to ship out again. But hopes to be back really soon. In the meantime, he had a Crushcake for the flight out.
So when I decided to leave law school in pursuit of changing the world through cupcakes, this was kind of what I had in mind. Not that I am changing the world by any means, but I do seem to bringing some happiness to it on some level. Sharing some love. Spreading peace. Eating good food with good people. Feels like success to me.
peace.love.food.
SN
We were contacted about a week ago by a representative from the food network inquiring if we were interested in being a part of one of their new shows, Cupcake Wars. Although I had heard of it, I had never seen it before. Apparently similar to Top Chef, 4 cupcake bakers battle it out over several episodes for the best of the best in cupcake making. Since we have the best cupcakes ever, should be no problem right? I asked a couple questions, thought it through for a minute or so then replied,” Sure, what am I doing? Why not?”
Monk and I drove down to Hollywood last week. Both of us a little anxious, not sure what to expect. We had a box of our dozen best to drop off to the producers to be judged. Monk dressed in his usual black from head to toe, stoic look across his face the entire drive. Until we hit traffic. Panic took over as my LA driving kicked into gear. “Shannon”, he said nervously, “I need to remind you that I just had a baby.” He gripped the oh-shit bar tightly as I swerved quickly past slow moving cars, passed others on the right and almost hit a Mercedes as nearly drove the wrong way down a one way street. We finally made it, a little harried, but there nonetheless. Both of us were whisked into a screening room and interviewed on camera, Monk taking the hot seat first. The food network girl smiling and cooing, “Oh, I really like your look, you will do well…”
She started with, “Why cupcakes?” and got something along the lines of, “Because its the first job I got after the monastery burnt down.” No emotion. No smile. No more details. Just straight forward facts. She soon realized that his looks may be as good as it gets.
Food network girl: “Which cupcake is your favorite?”
Monk: “All of them.”
Food network girl: “What do you like about cupcakes?”
Monk: “They taste good”
Food network girl: “What do you think you are best at and why?”
Monk: “Decorating”
Food network girl: “Can you tell me more about that?”
Monk: “I like decorating cakes. I’m an artist.”
“Well”, she said, “I really like your look, but lets try her.” Does that mean that she doesn’t like my look???
If you have never met me in person, maybe you can tell by my blog, I can be quite expressive. In fact, my mom often tells me that reading my blog is just like talking to me. Even the smallest details can get me going. So when someone, anyone, asks me about my business, the thing I am most passionate about, I can talk for hours. When food network girl starting interviewing me, she couldn’t shut me up.
Food network girl: “What is your favorite cupcake?”
Me: “Well, that is so hard to answer. I mean the chocolate is so rich and delicious, with the dark chocolate melted inside, a huge shot of Intelligentsia espresso added into the batter… then there is the coconut with the real coconut extract, fluffy coconut cake, creamy coconut frosting… Oh and what about the buttermilk crumbcake with the cinnamon swirl and brown sugar frosting…”
Food network girl: “How do you and Monk work together?”
Me: “We are a great team. We collaborate on everything, I’m always having new ideas then we talk about it and can always find a way to make things work. Like the cosmo cupcake, our newest flavor. Real raspberries in the cake, vodka lime raspberry frosting, amazing! And its that way about everything, I am always coming up with crazy ideas and between us we just figure it out. Sometimes him or I get stressed out, especially during the busy times, but we can always find a way to make each other laugh, or cry, depending…haha…”
Food network girl: “How do you two deal with stress together?”
Me: “Well, he clams up when he stresses out. That is how you can tell when he is in a bad mood. He doesn’t talk, just this look on his face that says don’t come near me and don’t talk to me. Then I am the opposite. I turn into the cupcake monster. He hates the cupcake monster. I run around screaming at all the kitchen staff, we need more cupcakes, we need more cupcakes! He is cool and I am fiery, a perfect match!”
She liked that one. “Can you repeat that line again for the camera, that was good…”
After an hour of questions and a photo shoot, we left our cupcakes in their care and took off. 3 to 4 weeks from now we may hear from them. We’ll see, however it turns out, it was an interesting experience. But I can tell you, when they opened our box of cupcakes to ask us about the flavors and the aroma of sugary goodness escaped, I was thinking, oh yeah, those babies are beautiful. So if we don’t get on the food network, definitely don’t blame the cupcakes!
peace.love.food.
SN
Have you ever heard of the cupcake monster? No, its not some cute, fluffy, lovable pink character from Sesame Street that likes to gobble up cupcakes and leave a mess of crumbs and frosting everywhere. This monster is a manic, raging, crazy haired person of the female persuasion that only makes an appearance during certain times of the year. The times can vary and one may never know when she might surface, but when she does, watch out! She likes to storm though the kitchen, hands swinging wildly in the air, grimace stretched across her face, teeth bared, eyes bulging, and shrieking to all in the kitchen, “We need more cupcakes, we neeeeed mooooorrreeee cupcakes, more cupcakes now!!!!”
So who is this cupcake monster? Well its me of course. I know I am really good at pointing out other people’s weaknesses, flaws, and frustrations, but now its time to point the finger back at me. This transformation of mine into the cupcake monster is not a pretty one. In fact, Monk has drawn a picture of it, and, well, its not flattering. It is so bad that the kitchen staff flee the area, hide in crevices between the oven and wall, squeeze under the space beneath the sink just to get away from me. The don’t want to hear my screeching, “More red velvets, more chocolate, more vanilla!!! Rapido! Rapido! Rapido!” They don’t want to make more cupcakes at 2pm and I understand that, its late, they have been here since 5am, but that is what we are here for, to sell delicious cupcakes. And there is absolutely nothing in this world that stresses me out more then seeing a bunch of empty cake plates where cupcakes should be at 2pm. Customers walking in the door, sad look on their faces at the lack of cupcake selection, only seeing remains of sugar sprinkles where the red velvets should be. “What, no more crushcakes???” And it always happens at that very moment, what feels like an entire bus load of people has followed them in, all with the same disappointed look on their faces, and we have to tell them all, these are the last few cupcakes we have.
So its Valentines week, our busiest time of the entire year, and the cupcake monster has had to make very limited appearances so far. But we still have 2 days left. I told Monk today, if you do not want to see the cupcake monster, please keep them rolling out all day long. No lag time. No stopping to chat. No text message breaks. And he made it work. It was perfect, kind of like the “hot now” krispy kream donuts, we had cupcakes coming out all day long, and they were still warm as they hit the boxes.
So hopefully we will be able to keep it rolling all weekend, because I’m not really a fan of the cupcake monster either. But I will do what it takes the plates full for you, so watch out boys and girls in the kitchen!
peace.love.food.
SN
Apparently my sense of humor has been misunderstood, as I have heard that there has been some controversy about a comment I made on my blog posting called “wtf”. I said something along the lines of if you complain too much in a restaurant (and not necessarily my restaurant, just restaurants in general) that you may get spit in your food.
This is an industry joke. In my 20+ years of working in restaurants, this is something that is often spoke of by servers, cooks, chefs, managers, etc. about customers that are rude, nasty, hateful, or just basically offensive, but I have never actually seen it done. Nor would I. I can’t imagine that anyone would ever do this, but it is fun to talk about when you are frustrated, stressed and just want to make yourself feel better about a difficult situation.
That is it. No one has ever spit in my restaurant and no one ever will. If they do, its the can for them, I assure you. But moving forward people, you have been warned, my sense of humor can be a bit off the beaten path. And if you ever have a question about anything I say, feel free to ask me, I’d love to hear from you!
peace.love.food.
SN
Its Saturday morning, I am slightly hung over from the previous night’s adventures with the staff and I have just opened the doors. Its 8:01am. In walks the Marine. He has a U.S. Marines hat proudly perched on his head, fingers blackened from decades of manual labor, a face tough and wrinkled from exposure to the sun, and he is standing at the counter waiting to be greeted. My stereo is blasting the Beatles.
“I didn’t think there were any hippies left.” he says to me. No smile or hint of a joke.
“Hhmmm, well I guess there are a few of us around.” I say. I am not really sure I would identify myself as a hippie, but maybe I am close to a modern day version. Version 2.0, the hippie who also drives an SUV, lives in Montecito and is a complete food snob.
“How are you this morning?” I ask.
“You know,” he goes on gruffly, ” I was in the first ever peace march.1967, DC”.
“Oh wow, really? That must have been something!” See there, I should know this by now, never judge a book by its cover…
“Well, I was in the Marines and watched as all of my friends were dying in Vietnam. A war that never should have happened!”
In my head I pause and ask myself if I should risk the question I want to ask? Do I have the energy to do this? Things are going interesting enough so far… “So,” I say, “What do you think of the current situation in Iraq?”
“Well, of course we had to go into Iraq! I mean, what about 9/11???” Here we go… “We had to get that evil guy outta there! We have to protect our children and families! We have to fight them over there so that they don’t come here!” Every Fox news talking point enters the conversation.
I just smile and nod. Here is the thing, this is my last year in my 30’s. I know who I am at this point in my life. I know what I can change about myself and what I cannot. I will probably not be changing my political affiliation any time, nor my religious view points, nor the color of my skin or my gender. It all makes up who I am. But one thing I can do is understand that everyone has something to offer and to learn from, whether I agree or disagree. This man, no matter how differently we might view things in the world today, has thoughts I find interesting and thought provoking. I do not want to be stuck surrounded by a bunch of droids that all think the same as me, that feel the same, that look the same. Think of how utterly and completely boring that would be? It is the diversity that keeps life interesting.
So the Marine continues to come into my store each morning for coffee and a muffin. And I appreciate that. I greet him warmly with a smile and am genuinely happy to see him. Yes, we have amazing coffee, but can he get an acceptable cup of coffee elsewhere that is not going to shove their peace and love view point down his throat? Of course. So he chooses, for whatever reason, to continue coming into my shop. And I am thankful.
peace.love.food.
SN
Sitch 1) “Hi John, how is your day going?” Whitney warmly greets one of our customers.
“Let’s get it straight,” John replies, “I am not here for any conversation with you. I am solely here for the food.”
WTF? Why would anyone say something like that? How about I show up to your little desk job, talk my way past your protective secretary who yells out in vain, “But he’s in a meeting”, and I start harassing you, “No more talking John. Stop checking your emails John. Get off facebook John. Just more work John!”
Sitch 2) Customer walks in to Crushcakes and says to Tara, our longest standing cashier, “I bet you were a lot thinner before you started working here?” WTF? How about, “I bet you would look a lot better in something other then those hideous green polyester pants, stained satin shirt, 1990’s clogs, fake gold fashion jewelry, I-only-shop-at-Ross-outfit you got going on there?”
Sitch 3) Customer comes up to the counter to order food. She tells Whitney, “I want oatmeal, with nothing on it. Nothing. No walnuts. No raisins. No brown sugar. Nothing.”
Whitney says,”No problem.”
Customer says, “Why do you have to make this sound like its a problem? Why did you even have to use the word ‘problem’? You should have said, ‘Its a pleasure to serve you’.”
Whitney says, “Ok, sure, its been a pleasure. I’ll bring out the oatmeal in just a moment.”
Whitney brings out the oatmeal to the customer, just as she asked, nothing on it. Only oatmeal.
Customer looks at the oatmeal and says, “But where is the steamed milk?”
Whitney replies, “You said you wanted only oatmeal, nothing else.”
“Well, I shouldn’t have to ask for steamed milk, you should just know I wanted it. I shouldn’t have to ask! Well, are you going to get it???”
Oh yes, I am going to get it. It may have a little extra something in it if you know what I mean, but yes, you will get your milk. Extra foamy…
Sitch 4) Emily is crossing the dining room, she has a table number stuck in her back pocket. John (yes, him again) decides it would be cute to stick his hand down her back pocket and pull the number out for her. She whirled around so fast, completely prepared to kick ass. He backs away very slowly, sly smile on his face.
Can I ban a customer just for being obnoxious? Why would he think that is ok? Do you see me sauntering up to him and putting my hand down his pocket, groping around, “Hey, what do you got in here? Is that chap stick or your…???”
Sitch 5) Whitney, sweet as pie, tells a customer she is very sorry but we have run out of sourdough bread. “We are getting more. It should be here in about 10 minutes or so if you would like to wait.”
Customer replies with, “What? No sourdough, but how will I eat my sandwich?”
“Well, we do have whole wheat or marble rye. And as I mentioned, the sourdough will be here soon.”
“No, that is unacceptable. What are you going to do about that?”
“Um, you can have rye, wheat or sourdough in about 10 minutes. Oh, I also have bagels if you would like?”
“Why don’t you have a sign up here saying you are out of sourdough?” Demands the customer.
“Well, we just ran out and since we have more on the way very shortly…”
“How about I stand here and look over your menu and watch as you make a sign. Then I will order. Once I see a sign up.”
How about I follow you out to your car, tail you to your office, then proceed to tell you how to do your job? “What is this crap? No, this report is all wrong, misspellings, poor alignment, inaccurate information. How about I stand here and watch until you can get this report right?!?”
Sitch 6) 5:45pm, day of our 2 year anniversary. We have sold out of cupcakes twice already and rebaked more. We are down to a small assortment of mini cupcakes to get us through our last 15 minutes of a very crazy day. Apparently our 2 year $2 anniversary special was all over twitter all day long. We couldn’t keep up with the cupcake demand. We were preparing to close up when a customer walked in, already a sour look on her face.
“What, is this it? This is all you have?”
“I’m sorry, we were very busy today for our anniversary.” I say. “But I am happy to give you a special on what we have left.”
“But your menu says you should have several different flavors of regular size cupcakes. Where are they all?”
“I’m sorry,” I repeat, “we sold out because we were very busy today. It was our 2 year anniversary. We will have the full selection tomorrow. Would you like some of these mini cupcakes today?”
“I came here for a cupcake and that is what I want. Right now.”
“Well, I have these minis, which ones would you like?”
“I want a regular size cupcake.”
I just stare at her. What more can I say? I am certainly not baking any more cupcakes. My eye brows raise questioningly but no words escape my lips.
Another customer walks in and says, “Is that all you have? Just those minis?”
“Yes”, I say, “Would you like them? I will give you a great deal, special for our anniversary.”
“Wait a minute”, says Ms. Sourpuss, “I want some of those. I was here first.”
“Yes you were. I am sooooo sorry. What can I get for you?” I ask, my tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Hmmpppp, I guess I will take them all. How much of a discount can you give me?”
They are FREE if you will just leave nowwwww!
Seriously people, wtf? All of this has happened just in the last week. I tell this to you, not because I would ever think that you, my loyal blog readers, has ever done any of these things. It is simply to illustrate what not to do when you go out to restaurants, cafes or bakeries. Because we don’t have the luxury to go to your place of business and harass you, touch you inappropriately, make you feel fat, stupid, or tell you how to do your job. Even if you might be tempted to yell and scream and bitch because you are receiving bad service. Hey, I sympathize, I have been there. We all have. But all that is going to get you is a wad of spit in your coffee. There are better ways to get what you want. Just show us a little love, it will go a long way. I promise.
peace.love.food.
SN
Today I was asked again why my shop is called Crushcakes. I am asked this so often I am considering writing up a little blurb for the menu. Originally the idea came from the fact that we actually crush so many of our own fresh ingredients into the cupcake. The “crushcake” was born from strawberries, lemons, blueberries, chocolate, vanilla beans, all crushed and folded into scratch made batter and baked up into a delicious treat. It then grew into the idea of combining my love and passion for food with the cupcake. From which came the phrase, “you’ll always remember your first crush”. But what about your last crush?
So if you read my blogs regularly then you know about my curiosity of love. Does true love exist? The unbridled, passionate, I would do anything for you, you are my entire world, would rather be with you then anywhere else, kind of love. After an ugly divorce from a 16 year tremulous marriage followed closely by a bizarre twisting relationship that ended as strangely as it started, subsequently reliving my lost twenties for a few months, I decided to take a break. Sit out for awhile and regroup. Watch others around me and take note of what I really wanted from a partner and what I did not. Through a series of unfortunate and interesting events, certain things became obvious. Someone of the same sex was not for me. As well as someone who was much younger then myself, someone who could not participate in stimulating and interesting conversation, who solely desired sex, who didn’t want to sit and watch t.v. all day, who didn’t dress like a high schooler but was in their late 30’s, who didn’t put me down or make me feel bad about myself, who was motivated to do things, anything, someone who genuinely wanted to be with me, the person I am, not what I represent . Would it ever be possible to meet this person? So far I preferred working to going out with anyone I had dated thus far. I would rather have gone to the gym, go grocery shopping, take out the trash, change a dirty diaper, climbed a rough mountain side, stood in line at the DMV, drive on the 405 freeway during rush hour, try on bathing suits in a well lit changing room, had an annual exam, had my fingernail ripped off, nose hairs plucked, my dogs tongue in my mouth, swam in a tub of ice water then spend my free time with anyone I had met up to this point. Things looked bleak. I was starting to think of House MD as my boyfriend because of the amount of time we spent together in my living room. And I was fine with that.
Until the Saint came along. How is it that one minute you can be happy, just moving along in your life, worried about normal things such as kids, bills, home, business, then suddenly, all of that is tossed out the window? In a matter of days, a week, a month, your whole world can turn, change, transform into something you never knew. Where you can look into the eyes of another and hear nothing, see nothing, think of nothing, but them. Where you feel like a stranger in your own body because you don’t recognize the emotions you are feeling. The only thing I can compare this passion to is my relationship with food. Sad, yes I am aware. But great food can be orgasmic. Trust me, I am watching right now in our cafe dining room as a woman is rocking, grooving, and groaning all over one of our buttermilk crumbcakes. Pure satisfaction with none of the strings attached. Until this. Last crush? Probably too soon to tell…but we will see.
peace.love.food.
SN