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Red Velvet Monster Cake Pops -- For the Red-Haired Girl Who Chose Her Dada

Ellie's first birthday. One year old. The red-haired girl named Helen who has Babcia's eyes and Megan's stubbornness and my chin. She is one and she is walking — took her first steps two weeks ago, wobbly and determined, from the coffee table to my outstretched hands. Her first steps were toward me. I will mention this approximately ten thousand times over the next twenty years. Tommy's first word was "Dada." Ellie's first steps were toward me. I'm winning, and I'm keeping score, even though Megan says parents don't keep score. Parents absolutely keep score.

The birthday party was at the house. Both families. Balloons. A cake that Megan ordered from the bakery (she has accepted that professional cakes are not an insult to my baking ability). Tommy ate more cake than Ellie. Ellie ate cake by smashing it with both hands and then putting her cake-covered hands on Tom's shirt. Tom did not mind. Tom has two grandchildren on his shirt and he considers them his finest accessories.

Ellie said her first word this week: "Dada." Not "Mama." "Dada." Megan looked at me and said, "Both of my children said your name first. I carried them for nine months and they both chose you." She was joking. She was also slightly annoyed. I tried not to be smug. I failed. The score is Jake 2, Megan 0. I am keeping score.

Made the celebration dinner: pierogi, golabki, the full spread. Because every Kowalski milestone is marked with food. Because food is how we say "this matters." Ellie's birthday matters. Her name matters. Her eyes that look like Babcia's eyes matter. Everything about this one-year-old girl with the red hair and the stubborn chin matters more than I can say in words, so I say it in pierogi.

The small Lakefront Brewery shift-work continues to be the small steady-paycheck. The small forty-hour-week brewery-floor job pays the small twenty-two-an-hour rate that the small Milwaukee-blue-collar-economy supports. The small benefits are the small union-decent. The small ten-year-tenure-target is the small career-anchor.

Megan is from a small Irish-Catholic Milwaukee-suburban family. The small Sunday-dinners at her small parents’ house rotate with the small Sunday-dinners at Jake’s parents’ house. The small in-laws on both sides have been the small welcoming-presence. The small two-family-network is the small extended-support the small newlywed-life rests on.

The small future-kid-conversations have begun. Megan teaches small fourth-grade at a small public school in Wauwatosa. The small adoption-vs-biological conversation is in the small early-discussion stage. The small five-year-plan includes the small kid-or-kids in some form. The small kitchen is the small place where the small future is being practiced.

Megan and Jake married in June 2024. The small newlywed-rhythm is in its small second year. The small two-bedroom rental on the small east-side of Milwaukee continues to be the small first-home. The small thirty-year-mortgage-eventually-someday is the small five-year-goal. The small marriage is the small foundation the small life is being built on.

The small Lakefront Brewery shift-work continues to be the small steady-paycheck. The small forty-hour-week brewery-floor job pays the small twenty-two-an-hour rate that the small Milwaukee-blue-collar-economy supports. The small benefits are the small union-decent. The small ten-year-tenure-target is the small career-anchor.

The small Polish-American heritage is the small kitchen-identity. The small pierogi-recipe-cards from Babcia Helen (Jake’s grandmother who passed in 2018, who had lived two blocks from the small Bay-View family-house) is the small monthly-Saturday-tradition. The small kielbasa-and-sauerkraut. The small bigos. The small recipes that came over from the small Krakow-region in the small 1910s.

Megan is from a small Irish-Catholic Milwaukee-suburban family. The small Sunday-dinners at her small parents’ house rotate with the small Sunday-dinners at Jake’s parents’ house. The small in-laws on both sides have been the small welcoming-presence. The small two-family-network is the small extended-support the small newlywed-life rests on.

The small Milwaukee-winter is the small six-month-condition. The small cold-weather-comfort-food rotation runs October through April. The small soups, the small stews, the small braises, the small heavy-baked-goods. The small Midwestern-comfort-vocabulary is the small kitchen-language.

The small future-kid-conversations have begun. Megan teaches small fourth-grade at a small public school in Wauwatosa. The small adoption-vs-biological conversation is in the small early-discussion stage. The small five-year-plan includes the small kid-or-kids in some form. The small kitchen is the small place where the small future is being practiced.

The pierogi and golabki carried the real weight of the evening — that’s Kowalski tradition, non-negotiable — but I wanted something for the table that was purely Ellie’s: bright, a little ridiculous, covered in candy eyes, and guaranteed to end up on someone’s shirt. These red velvet monster cake pops were exactly that. Red velvet felt right for the red-haired girl who said “Dada” first and walked toward me across the living room floor, and “monster” felt right for the kid who smashed her birthday cake with both hands like she was settling a score.

Red Velvet Monster Cake Pops

Prep Time: 45 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 2 hr 30 min (includes chilling) | Servings: 24 cake pops

Ingredients

  • 1 box red velvet cake mix (plus eggs, oil, and water per package directions)
  • 8 oz cream cheese, softened
  • 1/4 cup powdered sugar
  • 2 cups white candy melts
  • 1 cup green candy melts
  • 24 lollipop sticks
  • 48 candy eyeballs
  • 1/4 cup rainbow sprinkles or mini chocolate chips (for monster details)
  • 1 tsp coconut oil or vegetable shortening (to thin candy coating)
  • Black edible ink marker or black gel icing (for mouths)

Instructions

  1. Bake the cake. Prepare red velvet cake mix according to package directions in a 9x13-inch pan. Bake fully and let cool completely to room temperature, at least 1 hour.
  2. Make the cake ball mixture. Crumble the cooled cake into fine crumbs in a large bowl. Add softened cream cheese and powdered sugar. Mix with your hands or a stand mixer until the mixture holds together and is smooth — it should feel like soft dough, not sticky.
  3. Roll and chill. Scoop approximately 1.5 tablespoons of mixture and roll into smooth balls. Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes until firm.
  4. Melt the coatings. Melt white and green candy melts separately in microwave-safe bowls in 30-second intervals, stirring between each. Stir in 1/2 teaspoon coconut oil per bowl to achieve a smooth, dippable consistency.
  5. Attach the sticks. Dip the tip of each lollipop stick about 1/2 inch into melted candy coating, then insert into a chilled cake ball about halfway through. Return to the baking sheet and refrigerate 10 minutes to set the stick.
  6. Dip the pops. Working one at a time, dip each cake pop fully into the melted candy coating (white or green), letting excess drip off. Tap the stick gently against the bowl edge to smooth the coating.
  7. Decorate immediately. While coating is still wet, press on two candy eyeballs per pop. Place upright in a foam block or tall glass to set. Once set, use the black edible marker or black gel icing to draw a monster mouth beneath the eyes. Add sprinkles or mini chocolate chips for horns, teeth, or texture.
  8. Set and serve. Allow all pops to set fully at room temperature (about 15 minutes) or refrigerate briefly. Store loosely covered at room temperature up to 2 days, or refrigerated up to 5 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 195 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 26g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 145mg

Jake Kowalski
About the cook who shared this
Jake Kowalski
Week 607 of Jake’s 30-year story · Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Jake is a twenty-nine-year-old brewery worker, newlywed, and proud Polish-American from Milwaukee's Bay View neighborhood. He didn't start cooking until his grandmother Babcia Helen passed away and left behind a stack of grease-stained recipe cards. Now he makes pierogi from scratch, smokes meats on a balcony smoker his landlord pretends not to notice, and writes for guys who want to cook good food but don't know a roux from a rub.

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