When I was 19, my mother swept me and FDW off to Tuscany, to while away the summer in Villa a Sesta, a tiny town in the hills near Siena, unknown to most locals and visitors to the region, aside from wandering cyclists and a few dedicated gourmandes who set out to visit the small but exceptional cooking school and restaurant, La Bottega del 30, located on the edge of the village. On a clear day, we could stand outside the front door of the house and see Siena in the distance while breathing in the intoxicating smell of the infinite number of lavender bushes that lined our front walk. It was a time I still close my eyes and call upon when I’m feeling low, a dream filled with homemade tomato sauce and jugs of Nutella and vineyards and flourless chocolate cake and Il Palio and markets and weekend trips to the beach and newfound friends who spoke not a word of English, but who became like family despite any and all language barriers (and, shockingly, even despite the fact that I once asked one such friend, our lively gardener Girolamo, to “deflower me” instead of to “bring me flowers”). It was also the summer of a tremendous heat wave throughout Europe that at one time drove us to Venice for a respite in an air-conditioned hotel, but I pay that no mind in my cool, clear memories.
Our time in Tuscany was so special, and yet it was also so very typical of my mother, who has spent the majority of my life keeping us together in one way or another. We are a travelling circus, a family of gypsies, and we wander wherever we can together. I think the fact that I equate that summer in Italy to summers spent in the back of my father’s SUV, driving home from Vermont with the seats pushed back while we stared at the stars hanging over the highway, says something about my feelings towards travelling with my family, and I’d like to think it’s something like this: no matter where we go, it’s most memorable when we go together. Our trips together may not the easiest, nor the most relaxing, exotic or free from arguments, but assuredly these are the trips I remember the most fondly. And I think we all have my mother to thank for making us that way, for helping us realise, for example, that a month spent together in Florida with my grandfather every year was more worthwhile than spending the month in school (or at least helping our teachers realise that, as we never needed much convincing). So, on this Mother’s Day, and on the cusp of the arrivals of various members of my family over the course of the next few weeks, where we will presumably make more imperfectly perfect memories in London and Paris and Ireland, too, I’d like to thank her the way I’m sure she’d most prefer to be thanked. With food. With sweets! The sweets that my mother never made to go along with her Italian dinner menus (because Italians like her never fathom anything beyond carb after carb), thereby paving the way for me to find my niche in the kitchen in feeding my family dessert.
Fittingly, these cupcakes were made with the lavender my mom and I purchased last year (nearly to the day) in Provence and topped with candied lilies I brought back last week from Venice. They may not be as exciting as our Mother’s Day last year or our time in Tuscany, but the mere smell of them brought back so many of my sweetest memories. I hope they do the same for her. L’amore e bacia, mamma.
Lavender Cupcakes
(from The Hummingbird Bakery Cookbook)
For the cupcakes:
120ml whole milk
3 tablespoons dried lavender flowers
120g plain flour
140g caster sugar
1.5 teaspoons baking powder
40g unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 egg
12 small sprigs of lavender (optional)
For the lavender frosting:
25ml whole milk
1 tablespoon dried lavender flowers
250g icing sugar, sifted
80g unsalted butter, at room temperature
a couple of drops of purple food colouring (optional)
Put the milk and dried lavender flowers in a jug, cover and refrigerate for a few hours, or overnight if possible. Do the same with the milk and lavender flowers for the frosting, in a separate jug.
Preheat the oven to 170℃ (325℉) Gas 3.
Line a 12-hole cupcake tray with paper cases*.
Put the flour, sugar, baking powder and butter in a freestanding electric mixer with a paddle attachment (or use a handheld electric whisk) and beat on a slow speed until you get a sandy consistency and everything is combined.
Strain the lavender-infused milk (for the cupcake) and slowly pour into the flour mixture, beating well until all the ingredients are well mixed. Add the egg and beat well (scrape any unmixed ingredients from the side of the bowl with a rubber spatula).
Spoon the mixture into the paper cases until two-thirds full and bake in the preheated oven for 20-25 minutes, or until the sponge bounces back when touched. A skewer inserted in the centre should come out clean. Leave the cupcakes to cool slightly in the tray before turning out onto a wire cooling rack to cool completely.
For the lavender frosting: Beat together the icing sugar, butter and food colouring, if using, in a freestanding electric mixer with a paddle attachment (or use a handheld electric whisk) on medium slow speed until the mixture comes together and is well mixed. Turn the mixer down to slow speed. Strain the lavender-infused milk and slowly pour into the butter mixture. Once all the milk is incorporated, tun the mixer up to high speed. Continue beating until the frosting is light and fluffy, at least 5 minutes. The longer the frosting is beaten, the fluffier and lighter it becomes.
When the cupcakes are cool spoon the lavender frosting on top and decorate with a sprig of lavender, if using.
Yield: 12 cupcakes.
*I used a combination of parchment paper and, in her honour, silly paper cases that my mom bought me for Easter.
What a wonderful Mother’s Day gift. You are so special. The story and thought is over the top great. Love you DAD
Thanks, Dad – that means so much coming from someone I find so special, too. Rest assured I already have something sweet in store for you when I’m HOME for Father’s Day! Love you.
Hi Erika,
Mom sent me your blog and I thoroughly enjoyed reading.I am sure you made her smile on Mother’s Day – a day in which she surely misses having you sitting next to her enjoying such cupcakes while chatting and enjoying precious moments together. Hope you are well and enjoying your stay in London.
My best,
Joanne and gang
Hi, Joanne! What a treat to hear from you – hope you had a wonderful Mother’s Day (and that Michael did a lot of manual labor for you on the day, as you deserve). Life in London is wonderful, though I inevitably miss my family’s smiles and stuffing them silly with baked goods on days like these. Miss you and hope you all are well – it should go without saying that you are welcome to visit anytime!
What a wonderful and well deserved tribute to your MOM!
Thinking of you!
Love,
Elissa
Thank you, Elissa! Thinking of you on what I hope was a wonderful and well-deserved day for you as well. All my love to you and the family.
Oh Erika! My eyes were sore from staying up so late (it’s 2 a.m.)
but now they’re stinging from all the tears I cried reading this!
You do have a very special, extraordinary mom, who knows how to live, laugh and love. Danielle and I feel like we’ve traveled those trips with you after hearing all of you share those memories, and looking at those scrap books, and photos! I know no matter how many miles separate all of you, your mother will always find a way for you to be together. What a way to honor your mom! May the three of you always keep her forever young! Love. Ann
Ann, I will not let my mom cry over things like this and the same applies to you! Thanks so much for your kind words and for stopping by to send them to me. Mom has certainly passed on her love of photos and we’ll do our best to keep her forever young, or at least forever travelling, if only so that she can come back with more stories for you. Love to you, Danielle and Anthony and hope you’re now sleeping soundly…
Hi Erika,
Congratulations on your “Breads and Roses” cooking website! I especially enjoyed your “Lavender Cupcakes”, a great tribute to your mom. As for me, I will always remember your special blend of epicurean delights that once brought visions of sugar plums and fairies to the joy and wonder of Christmas, one of my most cherished memories of the Holiday Season. You were barely 16 at the time as I recall, and there you were in the midst of a “cookie bonanza” made of fruits, nuts, berries and chocolate, of every conceivable shape and size, delicately placed on silver platters and snow-flake doilies, and all blended by your very own hand. …Thank you for that cherished image, and for all that you are.
Love, Nettie
It’s such an honour to think that image of me at 16 remains among your memories, Aunt Nettie! The kitchen was and is always my favourite place to be, especially around Christmas. Thanks so much for sharing this with me. And please come visit during my cookie bonanza this year! It is always such a treat to see you, and I’m so happy to know that mom has you around to have fun with in my absence. You are such a light in all our lives!
Dear Erika,
I saw your mom and dad at the Main street Bistro last Sunday and your very proud mother emailed me your website. I am beyond impressed with your culinary talents and your beautiful tribute to your mother! Milk infused lavender-how decadent! I look forward to viewing your website often. You sound so happy and content. Wasn’t it yesterday you were a little cherub running around the kitchen!
ooxx,
Linda
Linda,
What a pleasure to hear from you (and apologies for my delayed response…it’s been a busy summer)! Thanks so much for the kind message. I am happy as can be, though perhaps not quite as exuberant as I was when I used to run around the kitchen. Life is good, and I hope it is for you, too (though with the Bistro near by, how could it not be). Perhaps I can drop you off a batch of decadent cupcakes the next time I’m home to visit!
All the best,
Erika