In case you didn’t know it, I used to live in a commune.
Not like a hippy commune, with tents and guitars and hemp, but a nice 3 bedroom Cape Cod. There were 3 couples, 2 of which were married. Don’t judge. We actually rarely saw one another, and the rent was hard to beat. Sad to think, my mortgage is now more than the rent we paid in total, divided up 6 ways.
Wow. So that’s why I’m poor now.
Anyway, back then there was little cooking going on. We lived in a college town, though none of us were actually still IN school, and it was just easier to order in than it was to cook.
One of our favorite places to get delivered was a little pizza place. I’d name it, but I fear someone local may know the place I am talking about, and I’m about to get graphic.
It was delicious. We’d order something that we affectionately dubbed “Chicken Cupcakes” – and they were divine. Yeasty bread, rolled up with barbequed chicken and cheese. Gooey. Spicy. Cheesy. Ridiculous. Lucky. As in, lucky if you got them.
You see, the guys who ran the place were pot heads. Pot equals two things. One – great munchies, everyone knows this. And Two, if the pot was powerful, you may or may not actually get your delivery. Some nights, 20 minutes after calling you’d have a styrofoam container filled with hot chicken cupcakes. Some nights, you’d realize 3 hours after placing your order that your chicken cupcakes were likely devoured after a smoke fest. Once, the chicken cupcakes we ordered on a Saturday during the Hokie game were delivered the next day during the Redskins game. We still ate them.
To order was worth the gamble though.
Sadly, that place is no longer in business, but I still get a hankering for those melty chicken cupcakes. So the other day I made some, and now you can, too.
Buffalo Chicken Cupcakes.
No growlights required.