My mom's frosting recipe goes something like this: "Take a couple tablespoons of butter, add a bunch of powdered sugar, add a tiny bit of milk, and then a little vanilla, then more milk or powdered sugar if you need it..." I've tried it a few times, but it just never works out for me.
I made cupcakes for
New Beginnings this weekend, and I really needed a reliable frosting recipe. So I went to my good friend The Internet, and
I totally found one.
I ended up with a whole bunch of extra frosting, so today I made a cake and started practicing for Eliza's first birthday.
I know, I know. I won't quit my day job. But it was so much easier than I expected. It reminded me of my teenaged cookie-decorating days working at Mrs. Field's, which reminded me of the giant buckets of frosting we kept in the back room, which made me wonder whether anybody ever got sick after eating a cookie that had been decorated with year-old, stored-at-room-temperature frosting.
And
that reminded me of the conversation Ben and I had recently, where we compared his first job at Subway with my first job at Mrs. Field's. Both of us loved washing dishes because the faucet had a sprayer with super high water pressure, but neither of us remember ever using soap.
