3/3/3 (featuring Mini Pina Colada Cupcakes)
The kalua pork butt, massaged vigorously with thick flakes of Hawaiian pink salt and impaled by many garlic cloves, spent 5 hours on a rack above smokey hardwood, and was then wrapped in banana leaves and set in a 325 degree oven for another 4 hours. The sumptuous meat collapsed upon itself after resting awhile, making the two forks I had eagerly readied for pulling feel useless. The tender pork would be tucked into the pillowy soft Hawaiian rolls I had sweetened with a splash of pineapple juice and softened with a smidgen of potato flakes.
This was the second Hawaiian-themed party I’ve catered in the past couple of years. Admittedly, my only indigenous island affiliation is the Isle of Manhattan. Still, the requests came from people I’ve catered for multiple times who trust me to honor the cuisine without misappropriation.
I chose a blue lei from the basket of flower garlands next to the door as I entered my client’s home.
“It looks so festive!” I exclaimed to the hostess, who had outdone herself with island-themed adornments for the buffet tables. Her husband, whose birthday party this was, peeked into the kitchen where I was getting set up.
“Happy birthday, Sam!!!” I whooped as he grinned and waved and then disappeared. Guests wouldn’t arrive for over an hour.
A little while later, my server and friend, Wendy, walked in with an orange lei around her neck.
“Hey!” she said with a big grin.
“Hey!” I introduced her to the hostess and then quickly started explaining her tasks. “I need you to unpack the platters and set up the buffet with utensils and framed labels. The menu is there.”
She nodded. She’s a pro beyond pro, and we’ve worked together long enough for my directions to be more performative than necessary.
“I think you saw it on Insta, but THIS happened last week!” My right forefinger lifted the back of my black chef coat and pulled my phone from my back jeans pocket. With a slide, tap, scroll, tap, we were both staring at the face of my new kitten, Gryphon.
She beamed, “He’s gorgeous! Those eyes!”
Wendy and I have a friendship where our most important life stories are shared in dribs and drabs while serving tens to hundreds of people.
“I know!” Grinning like the proud new cat mom I am, I turned to the stove where the fry oil I had put on a medium flame was coming to temperature. I pulled on my food safety gloves and took off my blue lei. Delicate polyester flowers and fry stations don’t mix.
“Will you pour the Huli Huli sauce into that bowl?” I pointed to a pint container on the counter with blue tape that said HH. “I’m going to fry the cauliflower right before guests get here. I don’t want to do it during the party because Cathy said a lot of the family will be walking through the kitchen.”
“Sounds smart,” she said, pouring sauce into a small square bowl. “What’s his name again?”
“It’s Gryphon,” I said as I laid chicken and pineapple teriyaki skewers out on a foil-lined sheet pan. “Will you start hinging the buns?” I pointed to the foil pans of homemade buns on the counter that she would cut in half almost all the way through.
She nodded.
“Francis and I didn’t even know what a beauty he was when we adopted him. You know, it’s been about 6 months since Grace passed away, and we’ve had it on a vague to-do list that we would adopt another cat soon.”
I dipped a cauliflower nub into the rice flour/ cornstarch/ seltzer water batter and then carefully placed it into the hot oil. It lay there bubbling unremarkably, so I plucked it out with my handy tongs and turned the heat up a bit. I plated the spring rolls.
“The Mae Ploy is over there,” I said, pointing to the pint container with blue tape that read ‘Sweet Chill’.
“Got it,” Wendy said, as she poured the sauce into a small oblong bowl.
Holding a hinged bun in my left hand, my right gloved hand plunged into the warm pulled pork, scooped out a hearty handful, and stuffed it into the open-mouthed bread.
“I always need to plan a path before I do something brave. It’s really hard for me to make important decisions about things when I’m in a new situation. So I thought we should go to the Oregon Humane Society to snoop around first. We could go and see how it felt before we felt the pressure of actually adopting. Saturday felt like “break the seal” day. Dip our toe in, y’know?” The kalua pork sliders were slowly filling the long rectangular ceramic platter.
Wendy nodded as she fanned napkins and gathered serving utensils.
We most often cater parties where guests are late, on trendy diets, or they spend their entire night at the bar. Not this party, though. This family was both early and hungry! For a 5:00 start time, the crowd began arriving at 4:40, and many stood right in front of the double oven where I had food heating up.
“OPENING!” I bellowed as I reached for the door of the top oven. Most guests nodded and apologized. A few just stood there, like they always do, but eventually moved when I started to open the oven door onto them.
“Thank you, sorry, thank you,” I said, trying to acknowledge the awkwardness of my professional kitchen voice in a casual family home (but knowing no other voice would have gotten them to move quickly).
I plated the skewered crispy coconut shrimp with tamarind dip and handed it to Wendy to put on the buffet.
“We walked through OHS, staring into pens and cubbies. Vet techs were pimping some of the more extroverted kitties who batted their lashes at everyone who patted on their glass.” I started dancing a bit in the kitchen like those saucy cats at the pound. “There were ones that we both thought were cute, but they were the cats everyone thought were cute. There wasn’t that special feeling. It was good, it just wasn’t our time.”
I returned to the almost-smoking oil and filled it with battered cauliflower, which now fried quickly. Placing the lightly browned cauliflower on a paper towel-lined pan, I sprinkled it with salt and continued.
“Francis and I decided it wasn’t our day, but we filled out the OHS application so that the next time we went, we could meet with a cat immediately.”
I pulled the mini turkey burgers with cheese melting on top from the lower oven and placed them on the hinged mini burger buns arranged on another platter.
“We had a delicious Indian lunch in St. John’s and looked back at the OHS website.” I gently squirted ketchup onto the burgers and closed the top bun. “And there was this grey cat that we hadn’t seen in the main building!”
Wendy took the cauliflower, burgers, and chicken skewers out to the buffet. “Did you go back?”
“We did! Right after lunch. Is everything out?”
“Yup!”
“Will you tell Cathy?” Wendy nodded and went to let the hostess know the buffet was open.
I started washing a few pans. “So we went back and told the lady at the front desk that we’d seen this cat online. She said that someone would be right with us. Then the vet tech came out, and her name was Amelia!”
“No way!”
“I know! We told her that that was our dog’s name, and she was delighted. She said that the cat we wanted to meet was a bit traumatized, which is why he wasn’t in the main building. She said we couldn’t even take him out of his cage. He’d been returned the day before after being adopted.”
Wendy exhaled loudly. “Oh my god, how awful!”
I wiped down the kitchen counters, pulled a new pair of gloves on, and started swirling coconut frosting onto the mini pina colada cupcakes.
“You have to know, of all the cats available, I was most drawn to the one that felt scared and abandoned. I connected so deeply to the look in his eyes. I immediately knew what giving him a good, loving home would do for him.”
I was grinning. The cupcakes looked perfect, the party was buzzing with happy guests, and I was sharing a life-changing event with a good friend.
“We got him home and he hid under the bed for three full days – no food, no water, just terrified. But then suddenly he came out like it was no big deal at all! That third morning, he was exploring the room and sniffing us, and we realized he had CLEANED his plate of food while we slept. He was still shy, but we could see his hilarious personality peeking out from behind his fear.”
“You know, they say it’s the 3/3/3 rule with new pets,” Wendy said as she diligently washed cooking equipment. “It takes them 3 days to get over the initial shock, 3 weeks to learn the ropes, and 3 months to truly settle in.”
“Wow, that feels exactly right. Thank you for knowing and sharing that.”
Life felt radiant at that moment; my gloved fingers sticky with frosting, my black jacket crusted with batter, my shoulders releasing with pride. I felt found. I felt rescued. I felt strong.
Like I always do in the kitchen.
Here is the recipe for the mini pina colada cupcakes I made. They disappeared quickly!
If you'd prefer to make full-size cupcakes, use the same recipe and bake for a few minutes more (20 minutes).
Mini Pina Colada Cupcakes
Makes about 35 mini cupcakes
Ingredients
1 2/3 cup all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
¾ cup brown sugar
¼ cup white granulated sugar
½ cup melted unsalted butter
1 egg
¼ cup pineapple juice
½ cup crushed pineapple
½ cup coconut milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon coconut extract
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Fill the mini cupcake pan with mini cupcake skirts (cupcake liners).
In a large bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
In another bowl, whisk together the melted butter with the brown sugar and the white sugar until well combined. Add the egg and whisk. Add the pineapple juice, coconut milk, vanilla extract, and coconut extract and mix.
Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and mix until no lumps remain.
Using a cookie scoop, fill the skirts with the batter 2/3 full.
Bake for 18 minutes. Let cool before frosting.
Coconut Frosting
Ingredients
12 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
2 ¾ cups confectioners sugar
¼ cup coconut milk
1 teaspoon coconut extract
Salt to taste
Beat the butter with a stand mixer or beater for about 4 minutes.
Add the confectioners sugar, coconut milk, coconut extract and beat until the frosting is smooth and shiny, about 8-10 minutes. The difference between frosting that has been beaten for 2 minutes and frosting that has been beaten for 10 minutes or more is phenomenal. As you beat it you can see it get smoother and shinier as it aerates.
Frost away! Aloha!
As promised, here’s the clip of me making these on KATU’s show Afternoon Live. https://katu.com/afternoon-live/cooking-recipes/pia-colada-cupcakes
Alison! Thank you for the wonderful recipe!! My parents will be here this evening and I’m going to try and use the recipe for a cake. Have you done this? Fingers crossed and I’ll let you know how it comes out. I gave a few to the neighbors, but I have been enjoying a couple of these little gems in a bowl with some fresh fruit the last couple of evening. So perfect 😋🥰
I love this. Food and cat porn in one beautifully woven story! What could be better!!❤️