So yesterday morning I woke up in the cozy cabin we are camping in at Castaways RV resort, here in Berlin, Maryland. My hangover was about a 2 on a scale from 0 to 10. No biggie. I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down with the dog to relax while waiting for my cabin mates to wake up. First to rise was my brother-in-law Joe, followed by my cousin Tori, my sister Julie, and finally Jimmy. The five of us were hanging in the living area reminiscing on the events of last night before heading to meet up with the rest of our camping crew for our morning ritual- a potluck breakfast complete with Mimosas and Bloody Marys. As I sipped down the last of my coffee I began to smell something a little funny. Next thing I knew, my sister was yelling something like “Oh. My. God! There’s something burning in here!!!” She whipped open the oven door to unveil an explosion of flames, the fumes of burnt plastic, and worst of all, the baked goods that I had prepped for the week ahead scorched from within my Wilton plastic cupcake caddy. It was a nightmare for this baker to see her homemade, from scratch goodies charred and floating in a pool of melted plastic surrounded by toxic black fumes. I wanted to cry. Instead I pointed my finger and yelled “Grrr Julie! Don’t you know to ALWAYS check inside an oven before preheating it!!!?” Then she turned to Joe, “Joe was the one who turned it on!!” And Joe turned to me, “Why the hell would you store things in an oven!” Then Jimmy chimed in “Will all you shut the &$@% up! If it means that much just say it was my fault!” Our arguing continued along with the loud obnoxious ear-piercing sound of the smoke alarm. Finally Jimmy took charge venting the cabin by opening all the doors and windows, resetting the smoke detectors, extinguishing the fire, and shoveling out the melted disaster from inside the oven. About an hour later, the mess was cleaned up. But, more importantly, there was still the lingering question as to whose fault it was. Was it Julie’s fault for foolishly preheating the oven without checking inside? Was it Joe’s fault for being the idiot who pushed in the digits 3, 5, and 0? Going out on a limb, could it have been Jenny’s fault for storing such prized possessions in an oven without forewarning the rest of the cabin? Or could we say it was Jimmy’s fault since he offered to be the scapegoat? After lots at rationalizing and with careful consideration we unanimously decided the blame belonged to Tide. After all, with his keen ability to smell he should have sensed something was burning and alarmed us, like any good dog would do. That was that. We headed out to the nearest Super Walmart, bought replacements, and whipped up these buffalo chicken cupcakes. The idea for these came from something I saw made by Carla Hall on The Chew. For her recipe click here. I took the easy way out by using corn muffin mix and Tyson any-tizers.
1 box corn muffin mix, prepared to pkg directions
1 1/2 sticks butter
3 T. molasses
1/3 c. confectioners sugar
pinch of salt
1 bag Tyson buffalo chicken bite any-tizers
Prepare corn muffin mix to pkg directions, making 24 cupcakes. Bake muffins and let cool. In the meantime, beat together the butter, molasses, sugar, and salt to make icing. Bake buffalo chicken bites in oven til heated through. Use a piping bag (or zip-lock bag with a corner cut off) to pipe a dollop of icing on each cupcake. Place a buffalo chicken bite on each. Serve immediately.