Chocolate Cupcakes and an (Un)healthy Dose of Possessiveness

I made chocolate cupcakes today for my brother to take to a Super Bowl party tomorrow. Yes, it was a particularly nice sister thing of me to do. But he’s a good brother, that John-Paul. He deserves nice sister things.

I didn’t make just any chocolate cupcakes, mind you. I made cupcakes out of the Yates Family Chocolate Cake recipe. The cake that we have for every single family birthday. The cake I make for all of my friends’ birthdays. They are better than all other cupcakes, these cupcakes made out of the Yates Family Chocolate Cake recipe. They are the best, most moist, little chocolate cakes covered with perfect sugary buttery frosting that I’ve ever had. Not to toot my own horn.

Ask anyone who has had them—they’re mighty good.

I’m sort of convinced that someday they will make me a small fortune, so I am very protective of the recipe. I won’t share it. I’m embarrassed about that, I really am. Whenever someone asks for the recipe, I’m not sure if I should just ignore the request or be honest and tell them that no, in fact, they cannot have the recipe.

I’d like to say that this possessiveness is only something that surfaces with these cupcakes, but I’d be lying. I’ve always been possessive…of my food (I have been known to hide food on occasion)…of my family…of my friends. But I prefer to call it fiercely loyal instead of possessive.

So, I feel sort of guilty. Showing you these delicious cupcakes. Telling you how good they are. Not giving you the recipe.

I hope you’ll forgive me.