Vanilla Buttermilk Cupcakes and Fantastic {Easy} Buttercream Frosting

Marcus was a summer child. Not literally—he was born in January, dead of winter—but his spirit belonged to summer, to the long days when school was out and he could sleep until ten and spend the afternoon driving around in Darius's beat-up Civic with the windows down and the music up. Every summer morning like clockwork, Darius would pull up in that car, and Marcus would walk out without hurrying, take his time, always make Darius wait just enough to establish that he was not in a rush, and they'd disappear until suppertime.

Darius came to the house last week. He knocked on a Thursday afternoon, holding a folded piece of paper—a card, I realized, handmade, the kind high school boys never make unless they are very sad and very serious—and he handed it to me and said, "Mrs. Simms, the whole class signed it. I'm sorry I couldn't bring it sooner. I didn't know how." He's eighteen years old, this boy, with his mother's forehead and Marcus's exact haircut—they used to go to the same barber—and he was crying, trying not to, and I took the card and said, "Darius, baby, you did right coming. You did exactly right."

Forty-two signatures. Kids I knew and kids I'd never met. One girl I didn't know—her name was Brianna, with a heart dotting the i—wrote, "Marcus was the first person to eat my baking and tell me it was good even when it wasn't. I'm going to keep baking for him." I had to sit down. Because that's Marcus exactly. He would eat anything, praise anything, encourage anyone. He had Bernice's hospitality—the open-hearted, fed-everyone hospitality—and he didn't even know that's what it was. He just thought he was being nice.

I put the card in my Bible. Then I went to the kitchen. Not to cook—just to stand there. I put my hands on the counter and stood there for ten minutes, thinking about Brianna baking for Marcus. Thinking about the way he ate my mac and cheese—the grin, the reaching for seconds before his plate was half done. Thinking: someone else is going to feed people in his honor. And I am going to cook in his honor. When the hands are ready. I could feel it, the readiness approaching like weather you can feel before it arrives. Not today. But soon. Soon.

When I read Brianna’s words—that she was going to keep baking for Marcus—I knew what I wanted to make when my hands were finally ready. Something simple, something sweet, something that someone like Marcus would reach for without hesitation and grin. Vanilla buttermilk cupcakes felt right: soft and honest and good, the kind of thing he would have eaten three of before I even got the frosting on. I’m making these for him, and I’m making them for every Brianna out there who bakes love into things and hopes someone notices.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 18 min | Total Time: 38 min | Servings: 24 cupcakes

Ingredients

For the Cupcakes:
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup buttermilk, room temperature
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
1/4 cup vegetable oil
3 large eggs, room temperature
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
For the Buttercream Frosting:
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
3 1/2 cups powdered sugar, sifted
3 tablespoons heavy cream or milk
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
Pinch of salt

Instructions

Preheat oven. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Line two standard 12-cup muffin pans with cupcake liners and set aside.
Mix dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Set aside.
Cream butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter and sugar together on medium-high speed for 2–3 minutes until pale and fluffy. Add the vegetable oil and continue beating for another minute.
Add eggs and vanilla. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in the vanilla extract until combined.
Alternate dry and wet. With the mixer on low, add the flour mixture in three additions, alternating with the buttermilk (beginning and ending with flour). Mix just until no streaks remain — do not overmix.
Fill and bake. Divide the batter evenly among the lined cups, filling each about 2/3 full. Bake for 16–18 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool in the pan for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely before frosting.
Make the buttercream. Beat the softened butter on medium speed for 2 minutes until creamy and smooth. Gradually add the sifted powdered sugar, one cup at a time, beating on low after each addition. Add the heavy cream, vanilla, and a pinch of salt. Increase speed to medium-high and beat for 2–3 minutes until light and fluffy.
Frost the cupcakes. Once cupcakes are completely cool, pipe or spread the buttercream generously over each one. Decorate as you like — sprinkles, fresh berries, or just left plain and perfect.

Nutrition (per serving)

Vanilla Buttermilk Cupcakes and Fantastic {Easy} Buttercream Frosting — Baking in His Honor