Buttermilk Chocolate Cupcakes

I got a call from Orlando this week. Brittany — Patricia's oldest daughter, the pharmacist — is pregnant. Not just pregnant. Pregnant with twins. Twin girls. Due in late May or early June.

When Patricia called to tell me, she was crying — the happy crying, the overwhelmed crying, the crying that comes when your daughter tells you she's having two babies at once and you simultaneously feel joy and terror and the urgent need to make freezer meals. "Mama," Patricia said, "twins." I said, "Twins." She said, "Girls." I said, "Girls." We repeated the facts at each other because sometimes that's all you can do with news that big — you say it back and forth until it becomes real.

Brittany is forty. Her husband Andre Jackson is a steady man — not flashy, not loud, the kind of man who works and comes home and loves his wife and will now love three children, because they already have one on the way... wait. No. Brittany has been married a while but these will be her first children. Twins at forty. The body does what it does. Medicine helps when it can. And the babies arrive when they arrive, in whatever number they choose.

The great-grandchild count will jump from eight to ten when these girls are born. Ten. Ten great-grandchildren. I am seventy years old and I have ten great-grandchildren and the number keeps climbing and the table keeps growing and the food keeps multiplying and I am going to need a bigger kitchen. I am going to need a bigger LIFE. But the kitchen is the life, and the life is the kitchen, and both will expand to hold whatever arrives.

I've already started the Greyhound math. Orlando is farther than Atlanta. The bus takes longer. The dry ice needs to be heavier. The cooler needs to be bigger. The freezer meals need to be doubled because TWINS. Two babies. Two mouths. Two sets of everything. Brittany is going to need food the way a soldier needs ammunition: constantly, without interruption, in quantities that would alarm a civilian.

Made red rice and fried chicken tonight. The celebration dinner. Every time a Henderson baby is announced, I make celebration food, and the celebration food is always the same: the food of the Lowcountry, the food of the family, the food that says "we are growing" in the language of rice and chicken and the oil popping in the skillet.

Now go on and feed somebody.

The red rice and fried chicken were the savory celebration — the language the family has always spoken when a new baby is announced — but twins deserved something more. Two babies. Two candles at the end of the meal. I made a dozen buttermilk chocolate cupcakes, and the buttermilk in them felt right, felt Southern, felt like the kind of ingredient my grandmother would have recognized. Ten great-grandchildren calls for something you can count out one by one and hand to somebody you love.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 12 cupcakes

Ingredients

1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
1/2 cup buttermilk
1/2 cup strong brewed coffee, cooled
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
For the frosting:
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
2 cups powdered sugar, sifted
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
3–4 tablespoons buttermilk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
Pinch of salt

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Line a standard 12-cup muffin tin with paper liners and set aside.
Mix dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder, and salt until evenly combined.
Mix wet ingredients. In a separate bowl or large measuring cup, whisk together the eggs, buttermilk, cooled coffee, vegetable oil, and vanilla extract.
Combine. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir gently until just combined — do not overmix. A few small lumps are fine. The batter will be thin.
Fill and bake. Divide the batter evenly among the lined cups, filling each about 2/3 full. Bake for 18–20 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
Cool completely. Let cupcakes cool in the pan for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack and cool completely before frosting.
Make the frosting. Beat the softened butter with an electric mixer until fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add the sifted powdered sugar, cocoa powder, vanilla, and salt. Mix on low to combine, then add buttermilk one tablespoon at a time until the frosting reaches a smooth, spreadable consistency. Beat on medium-high for 1 minute until light.
Frost and serve. Pipe or spread frosting onto each cooled cupcake. Serve at room temperature. Store covered at room temperature for up to 2 days or refrigerate for up to 4 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Buttermilk Chocolate Cupcakes — The Celebration Dozen for Two New Girls