Tuesday, 18 December 2007

R.I.P. Miniature Cheese Muffins

Some people might say I am one to hold a grudge. Hold it, stroke it and give it little treats, even. But at least I am fair in my grudge-holding - two thirds of my grudges are against myself.

One of the grudges that has reared its resentful head recently is over some miniature cheese muffins. At the end of the Summer term this year, The Girl's nursery invited all parents to contribute a dish for the party. I dutifully ticked the 'Savoury' column - being a total square - and went about researching healthy but tasty options. I decided on cheese muffins, which I'd never made before, and then I decided to go for the cute factor and make them teeny, in the sweetest little muffin cases you ever did see. The children were going to LOVE me. The parents would ADMIRE me. I would get a GOLD STAR.

Just to be sure that nothing went wrong, I made 56 miniature muffins and picked the best 40. I made The Girl eat about eight of the rejects to make sure that even the duds were child-friendly. She made yummy-noises and I packed the Good Ones away in a tupperware (yes, I had to do this several times before I got it right) and went to bed that night anticipating parents and children swarming to me with empty miniature muffin cases and appreciative smiles.

In the morning, I handed my tupperware to the nursery manager and felt a small stab of pain when she dumped it nonchalantly with the other covered offerings without asking what was inside. I could have volunteered the information, but unfortunately I am a bit of an idiot. Still, I felt sure that once she'd opened the lid and caught a delicious cheesy waft, I'd be back in business.

Upon entering the party later that day, my little world was shattered: it was a grander spread than I could ever have imagined. It was a feast of tasty treats from around the globe - eye-catching, mouth-watering and plentiful.

And there, shoved in the back corner, was my sad little tupperware of 




Alone. Discarded. Almost out of sight. On the line between the savoury and sweet tables, because no one was really sure what they were supposed to be.

I tried not to mind. I tried not to look. But as they piled their paper plates high, I saw not one child or parent gasp with delight at a muffin of mine. It was a wash-out. I stood by the sweet table stuffing my face with gummy bears to numb the pain.

On Thursday, it's the nursery Christmas Party. The Girl is playing an angel in the play. Help me, dear blog reader(s?), become an angel in the kitchen and a victor in the finger food war: what shall I make?

Stumble Upon Toolbar


LG said...

Sprout fritters in a nice sprout gravy? Reindeer milk custard for afterwards? Shudders.

May I just say how much I adore cheese muffins? Please tell me they all got eaten in the end.

Ross said...

That's so sad. How about making them a big bowl of SCREW YOU YOU LOUSY NON MUFFIN EATING INGRATES ?


I have no suggestions unfortunately. I did see a nice recipe for inside-out chocolate strawberries where you scoop out the middle and fill them with chocolate but that sounds like a lot of stuffing about.

I'm adding this story to my long list of 'reason not to reproduce'.

The Mock Duckling said...

Hehe to the last comment - me too!

Goddamn! Don't stoop to their level!

I'd have eaten them. All probably.

Mum'sTheWord said...

I'd love to think it was their level I was stooping to - but I think I'm already down there, grasping for approval like the saddo that I am :) In the end, I bought some brioche and put some cheese inside at 7.30 the morning of the party while listening to my new £5 Woolworths radio. It was a pretty joyful, simple procedure, and they were wolfed down.

I quite like the sound of sprout fritters.