Free Confectionately Yours #1: Save the Cupcake! by Lisa Papademetriou Page A

dessert.
    INGREDIENTS:
    1/2 cup raisins
    1/3 cup dark brown sugar
    1 teaspoon cinnamon
    2–3 tablespoons maple syrup, plus more
    1/2 cup margarine
    1/2 cup sugar
    2/3 cup milk
    1/2 cup yogurt
    1-1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
    1-1/4 cups flour
    1 teaspoon baking powder
    1/2 teaspoon baking soda
    1/2 teaspoon salt
    INSTRUCTIONS:
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line a cupcake pan with cupcake liners.
In a small bowl, mix together the raisins, dark brown sugar, cinnamon, and maple syrup, and set aside.
In a large mixing bowl, cream the margarine and sugar with an electric mixer until light and fluffy. Add the milk, yogurt, and vanilla extract, and mix until smooth.
In a separate large bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt, and mix. Slowly add the dry ingredients to the wet, and mix until smooth.
Fill the cupcake liners one-half to two-thirds of the way full. Then drop a spoonful of the raisin mixture into the center of each, swirling it into the batter with a toothpick to create a cinnamon-raisin-bread effect.
Bake for 20–22 minutes, until an inserted toothpick comes out clean. Remove from the oven and allow to slightly cool. Then, while still warm, poke multiple holes into each cupcake. Drizzle around 1 teaspoon of maple syrup on each cupcake to soak through. When cooled, frost each cupcake with vanilla frosting (see recipe ).

“I ’ve been thinking of your cupcakes for days!” Mr. Malik says as he settles onto a chair at the counter. He places a lovely purple orchid on the polished wood. “Phalaenopsis,” he says.
    “Absolutely lovely,” Gran says.
    “A thank-you for the last delectable treat.” Mr. Malik beams.
    I laugh. “For me? Are you jealous, Gran?”
    “Oh, pooh.” Gran frowns at me, but her eyes twinkle.
    “Now tell me,” Mr. Malik says, “what is the daily cupcake?”
    “French toast.”
    “Ah! How clever. I’ll take that. And my tea, of course.”
    Gran gathers the loose tea and places it in a pot to brew, and I put one of my latest creations onto a plate.
    Mr. Malik looks around, frowning. “Rather busy in here, isn’t it?”
    He’s right; the place is packed — every single table is taken with people chatting or working quietly on computers.
    “This is the problem with coffee,” Mr. Malik pronounces. “Everyone wants to keep working, keep working. They don’t even know what they are drinking! Tea, however — this is to be savored. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Wilson?”
    “Absolutely, Mr. Malik,” Gran agrees. “Savored with good company.” She actually makes herself blush when she says this.
    “Mother!” Mom comes out of the back office holding an enormous bundle of mail. “Mother — what is all of this?”
    Gran bats her eyes innocently. “Mail?”
    “Mail! Yes — specifically bills, Mother.” Mom dumps the envelopes on the counter. “Some of which are past-due.”
    “Oh, I never pay attention to those things,” Gran says, waving her hand. “I’ll just call them up and explain. They always let me pay late.”
    “Mother, this one says it’s going to a collection agency .” Mom is waving an envelope like it’s an exhibit for the prosecution. “That could destroy your credit rating!”
    “Well — so?” Gran looks blankly at Mr. Malik, who pours himself a cup of tea.
    Mom throws up her hands in frustration. “You’re impossible! I’m just going to have to call and sort this out.” She stalks off, and I hear her grumbling something about needing a filing cabinet.
    “She’s turning my hair white,” Gran says to Mr. Malik.
    “Well, Mrs. Wilson, I think you should consider yourself extremely lucky to have a daughter who wishes to take care of you.”
    “You’re quite correct,” Gran says, and takes a sip of her tea.
    The bell above the door jingles, and a cold chill falls over the room. The cakes fall flat in the ovens, and the coffee develops frost around the edges. A tumbleweed rolls between the tables.
    No, just kidding. It’s just