A longing for Spring and some lemon cupcakes to quench the thirst for light and warm and colourful days

Seems like the heavy falling, constant rain of the last couple of weeks has taken a hike to other pastures, and I can't say I'm sad about that. I'm getting to that point where I crave for milder temps and sunnier skies, where I wish for a pair of dainty shoes upon my feet instead of warm boots, where I long for a lighter velvet jacket on my back and not a long overcoat, a flimsy blouse instead of a wooly turtleneck. I'm craving Spring, and don't I know it. It happens every year, despite the kind of Winter we may have had, that by the end of February, early March I'm ready for less layers and cooler outfits. And and explosion of colour in nature.

Of course my Spring cravings are always very romanticized: I dream of strolling through green prairies filled with wild flowers and yet I know I wouldn't be caught dead in one, because, well, allergies! And I fantasize of lazying about by a shallow running river, eyes half shut and made sleepy by the drone of the insects all around, despite the fact I'm bloody scared of insects, even flies! I also long for hours on end outside, taking walk after walk under the still cool and yet inviting crispness of a Spring morning, but I know far too well I have much to do at home and wouldn't be able to just indulge in that kind of thing.

Still, I like the idea of Spring, untill my allergies hit me, that is, but I do crave for warmer weather. I would live in a constant Spring and Fall, with only specks of Summer and Winter to them, a world where temps would be constant and delightfull, the sun mostly shining up high in the firmament, green all around and the colours of those maddening wild flowers sending bursts of joy into the eyes of those who dare look at them. I believe I would be a happy camper in a world where Spring was eternal. Or maybe not. We need an array of emotions to be emotionally sane, we need an array of seasons to be bodily complete. I love them all, I truly do, but right now I would be so happy with Spring being right around the corner.

And when I get to the point where I long for Spring like a disease, I always seem to find some sort of comfort in lemons. It's the brightness in their colour, the tartness in their flavour, the freshness in their scent. They seem to revive me from those deep slumbers of hybernation Winter always seems to bring. Lemons awake me like a strong coffee never could. They make me feel like Summer is at the tip of my fingers, kept at bay by Spring's bounty of joy and produce and fresh fruit. Lemons always make me hope for a brighter tomorrow. So I start using lemons in everything, when I get to the end of February, early March. It's like a ritual of sorts.

These lemon cupcakes fit the bill perfectly, and they were something of a play between me and my son, I made them many sized just for fun, just because I knew his eyes would go wide and say "Oh mom, there's all sorts of cupcakes!" when there's only one sort, lemon cupcakes. But because I made some as big as small tartelettes, and others as small as bonbons, I knew he would instantly think there was an array of cakes for him to try from. And he would love the idea of the different sized bites. I guess being a mom will have these things, when you go around doing stuff just because you think your offspirng will find it rather funny.

They're such an easy recipe, quickly made and baked and assembled, and they're perfect for these days where the sun seems to linger longer in the sky every afternoon, so here's the recipe:
  • 150 gr butter, room temperature
  • 100 gr flour
  • 50 gr cornflour
  • 125 gr light muscovado sugar
  • 3 eggs
  • 1 tsp baking powder
  • zest and juice of one lemon
Start by turning your oven at 180º and lining your cupcake moulds. On a stand up mixer cream the butter with the sugar until it's fluffy and pale. Add the flours, baking powder and the eggs, alternately, making sure you combine every batch thouroughly before you add the next ingredient. Finally add the zest and the juice from the lemon, and mix well. Bake for aproximately 25 minutes, using a skewer to test, if it comes up clean, the cupcakes are done. Let them cool and serve with some earl grey tea, or a glass of milk!


  1. Que maravilha de aspeto. Podia ter sido a minha sobremesa de hoje à noite, maravilha. Beijos

  2. "An explosion of colour in nature" tb o quero, mt. Eu fazia (qd tinha um forno gd d jeito) um bolo super parecido. Eu tenho uma aversão a miniaturas, gosto de cortar fatias e comer. Pancadas. P ficar satisfeita teria d comer 4 desses e ficaria a pensar "comi 4!!" qd na verdade, a fatia do bolo teria o mm peso. Ai mulheres...bichos de um raio

    1. gosto de miniaturas porque como só uma loooool mas acima de tudo pelo aspecto visual da coisa em fotografia - ok, eu sei, parvoeira da grande. Nem me fales em fornos grandes, o meu anda a dar as últimas, sonho com um forno ventilado!!!

  3. ficaram tão lindos e com um aspeto tão bom! e concordo contigo, as miniaturas firam giríssimas nas fotografias!

    1. pois ficam, é um bocado idiota cozinhar de uma forma só pq visualmente funciona nas fotos, mas... ficam tão amorosas que eu não resisto.

  4. Adoro limão em tudo, raio de fruto mais versátil!


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