Vegan chocolate-covered strawberry cupcakes

It’s no secret that I’m a fan of all things sweet.

I’m particularly a fan of sweet things in cupcake form. 

And because my husband can’t actually stomach a strawberry in it’s berry delicious form, I have to come up with new and clever ways if I want to make a sweet strawberry treat. 

So for Sweetest Day a few weeks ago (yes, I’m a sap that celebrates this holiday, I always have and always will), I decided to turn chocolate-covered strawberries into a more edible delight for my husband.

And if you’re STILL not a fan of Chubby Vegan Mom on Facebook, then you missed out on some serious vegan cupcake food porn.

This recipe uses a combination of strawberry jelly (to ensure seed-free frosting) and strawberry puree to flavor the cupcakes! 

The best part of this cupcake is how fancy schmancy it is. With the help of a quick chocolate mousse, vegan chocolate chips and a little vegetable oil, this recipe packs loads of strawberry with the perfect hints of chocolate. 

They’re a wee-bit labor intensive, but I promise, they’re worth the TLC. 


Vegan chocolate-covered strawberry cupcakes

(makes 24 cupcakes)
Cake ingredients:

2 cups all-purpose flour
1.5 cups cake flour
1 cup strawberries (pureed)
1/4 cup applesauce
1 cup sugar (it’s a cupcake, I didn’t say it was healthy)
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup vanilla coconut milk
2 tsps baking powder
Dash of salt
Optional 2-3 drops red food coloring (Our health food store sells a vegan, locally-sourced variety)

Chocolate mousse ingredients:
2  ripe avocados
1/2 cup cocoa powder
1/2 vanilla coconut milk
2 tsp sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract

Frosting ingredients:
1.5 sticks vegan butter, at room temperature, we used Earth Balance
6 cups powdered sugar
1/4 cup coconut milk
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/3 cup strawberry jelly, melted(I used some made for us by friends this past summer!)

Optional 2-3 drops red food coloring

Chocolate «shell» drizzle ingredients:

1 cup vegan chocolate chips

2 TBS vegetable oil

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. In a medium bowl mix together all your dry ingredients (all purpose and cake flour, sugar, baking powder and salt). Take your one cup of strawberries and puree them in your high-power blender or food processor. Soften your vegan butter in the microwave (again, soften, not melt) and pour into a large bowl with the rest of the liquid ingredients (strawberry puree, applesauce, coconut milk, water and optional food coloring). Stir the dry ingredients into the liquid ingredients (about a cup at a time) and then blend with a mixer.

Line your muffin pan with cupcake wrappers and fill each a little over half full. Bake for 20-25 minutes, the edges will pull away from the pan some and you’ll be able to stick a toothpick into the middle and pull out out cleanly. Once they’re done set them aside to cool.

Now, for the frosting. In a large mixing bowl, blend together 1.5 sticks vegan butter (at room temperature), coconut milk, jelly and vanilla extract. (Add optional food coloring if you’d like). Blend in powdered sugar (about a cup at a time), until it’s all mixed together. Refrigerate until use. 

For the chocolate mousse, puree the avocado and set aside. Mix together the cocoa powder and milk and add to the avocado. Stir in the sugar, and vanilla extract, blend well with a mixer. Store in the fridge until you’re ready. 

Once your cupcakes have cooled, use your finger to make a small hole in the center of the cupcake. (It should be deep enough to fill, but not so deep that it goes to the bottom). Using a bakers bag (or a zip lock bag with the tip cut off) fill the center of the cupcakes with the chocolate mousse (it’s possible depending on the size of your strawberries that you may need more, make it as you need it).

Next, pipe on the frosting (I use a bakers bag and a really big tip, like the extra large ones, because they cover more ground and I’m a busy woman!). 

Set cupcakes aside and in a microwave-safe bowl, melt chocolate chips and vegetable oil. Take out and stir until well combined. Using a fork, drizzle this chocolate all over the frosted cupcakes. Wait 10-15 minutes for the chocolate «shell» to set and then serve! (We kept these in the fridge for a couple days until they were all gone). 

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Vegan strawberry shortcake cupcakes

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Dear stressed out mama: Just hang in there

It’s been a trying week.

Heck, maybe it’s been a trying two minutes. I’m not judging.

You want to throw in the towel. You are wondering what on Earth you got yourself into when you procreated this tiny little human being and doubts are swirling in your head — how did you ever think you’d be good at this whole motherhood thing?

Maybe your baby is two days old, maybe your baby is 14 years old. Regardless of how much time has or hasn’t passed, one thing is certain: you are on the verge of breaking down and you’re no longer questioning whether or not you’re a terrible mother, you KNOW you are.

And it’s not enough that you’ve just succumbed to some of the most berating, intimate and heart-wrenching feelings a mother can have. Now, you’re going to slip into the next stage of self-loathing — the one where you think about how much better everyone ELSE is doing as a mother and how you’re never, ever going to be able to compare to them. And how unfair that is, because you love your kiddo so much and they deserve so, so, so much more than you, the world’s WORST mother, can provide.

But this is where I’m going to stop you. I want you to stop all those thoughts you’re having and I want you to focus on that last sentiment. Your mind is in one of the most fragile states it could possibly be in — you feel like you might never stop crying, like you might snap, like you might really be done for good — but you’re not actually worried about any of those things, are you? You’re not worried about how all those other perfect mothers are going to whisper about you behind your back. You’re not worried about having to tell your spouse that you might really be done for good.

No. Instead, you’re worried about all of the damaging, scarring things happening to your beautiful, perfect baby because they are stuck with you as a MOM. You’re worried about whether they’ll be a loving and gentle parent one day to their baby, because maybe you raised your voice too much, let them cry it out too long. You’re worried they’ll be unable to face the challenges that come their way because you weren’t able to be strong and sturdy for them.

You get that? You are worried about THEM, even when your mind is barely grasping at sanity, your mama-bear nature is still buried in there somewhere and is rearing her big ole’ stubborn head.

And thank the Lord for that.

I promise you, you’re not done. I promise you are not the worst mama in the whole wide world. I promise your child is still going to think YOU make the moon sparkle and the sun shine. I promise this will get easier. I promise this will not be your last battle, there will be many, many more. And I promise you will make it through those, too. Even when you really, really think this might be it, the crying might break you, the tantrums just might win, I promise they won’t. I promise you’ll remain strong. I promise you’ll get through this. Really, you will. I know I’m some stranger on the internet, so you’re probably thinking «she doesn’t get it, she doesn’t know how bad of a mother I really am, she doesn’t know, it will not be OK.»

It’s going to be OK, mama.

The first two weeks of Braeburn’s life, I stayed up all hours of the night, sobbing in the dark while I nursed my son. He was SO good at breastfeeding, it was a dream compared to the ordeals we faced with Pearyn. He was such a good baby. He had big, sweet cheeks and all he wanted to do was nuzzle my neck and eat and eat and eat until he passed out. And he wanted to do this every hour. Sometimes, just as I put one breast away, he was ready for another. And while my baby longed for my scent, my touch, I longed to just put him down. Just for an hour or two. I longed for it to be easier. I willed him to sleep more and nurse less.

And when none of those things happened, I sobbed.

I sobbed because I wasn’t a good mother; good mothers were excited to be breastfeeding their big, healthy baby boys. I sobbed because my nipples were raw and bleeding, which was further evidence that I wasn’t a good mother; good mothers knew how to unlatch their babies from their breasts so they wouldn’t be sore. And I sobbed because my perfect little boy had the most imperfect mother.

As mothers, we have this bad habit of idly suffering as we struggle to live up to the standards we think every other mother is soaring past. When in reality, all of us are treading water at some point. In reality, all of us are barely getting by, at some point. In reality, stressed out mama, we’ve all been exactly where you are right now, at some point. And at some point, you’ll be consoling another mother for this very same thing.

Last week was a struggle. Between working, coaching and trying to be everything to everyone, all while smiling, mind you, I found myself down and out. I just needed a minute to myself. Just a break. A quiet, simple minute where I didn’t have to think and I could enjoy my coffee in peace. So I hid in my closet. That’s right. I’m a 29-year-old mother and I hid in my closet from my two-year-old son. He was riving and screaming and five-minutes deep into a tantrum to end all tantrums and I hid in a closet from him for two minutes so I could take one sip of my coffee without tasting my own salty tears. And then I took a deep breath, put my best mommy face on and picked my child up off the hallway floor just five feet from my closet. We were both worse for the wear, but that wasn’t because of my two minute coffee break, it was because we’d been feeling this way for a while and we just had to get it out.

It doesn’t ever get easier. You don’t just unlock the magic key to solving all of your baby’s problems. And even when you’re doing an absolutely phenomenal job as a mother, you still think you’re failing. No matter how much you’re rocking it as a mom, you won’t ever realize how amazing you really are.

I promise you, stressed out mama, you ARE amazing. Even if you feel like the world just ate you up, regurgitated you and then chewed you up some more, you ARE amazing.

And this moment you’re in right now, where you don’t think you’re good enough or you’re not sure if you’ll make it out alive, it’s just a moment and it will pass. And even though another one will inevitably come, it will pass too.

And somehow, you’ll be on the other end of this letter.

And you’ll be telling another stressed out mama that she’s going to be OK. That she really is the absolute best mama in the whole wide world for her baby.

Just hang in there.

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Being thankful

Close to a year ago, when we first moved into our current home, we finally had enough space to have a real, grown up, dedicated dining room. (Who am I kidding, regardless that I’m just a few months shy of turning 30, very few things in my life are truly «grown up.»)

We barely had the dishes unpacked before we started sitting down to dinner as a family. And because we closed on our first home EVER the day before Thanksgiving, we spent our actual holiday eating cold stuffing and some variety of Tofurky while sitting on the dirty kitchen floor of the house we were leaving behind.

We had so so so much to be thankful for, but we couldn’t find the time to really BE thankful. We were busy sticking all those things we were thankful for into boxes, taping them up and then moving them around. And so even though it’s not Thanksgiving, we have a habit of ending our day by talking about everything we’re thankful for.

Before I settled into bed tonight, my daughter cozied into my arm and told me how thankful she was to get to snuggle with me at bedtime. And suddenly, those few nights a week I moan and groan because she should be spending far more nights in her OWN bed and not in the «big bed» (aka, my husband and I’s king-size bed that is usually inhabited by one of our offspring or a furball more than it’s not), they didn’t seem to matter. Because it’s not going to be like this forever. She’s not going to want to snuggle with me forever.

As we huddled under the covers, she asked me what I was thankful for. I paused for a moment as I recalled the events over the past week; it was certainly a trying one. It wasn’t hard to nail down the culprit, but it was the compilation of lots of little things that made everything seem bigger than it had to be. So I told her I was thankful for our family. For her daddy, her bubby, our fur babies and of course, her.

And she sat up, grabbed my face and told me she was thankful for her family too. But that wasn’t all. She was thankful for everyone in her whole WORLD.

I asked her what she meant by her whole world and she looked at me quizzically. How could I NOT know who her whole world was. So she told me. It meant all her memaws and papaws, her aunts, uncles and cousins, Kara (our phenomenal high school babysitter), Kenzie and Gavin (oh and of course their mommy and daddy too) and all the people at her school, all the people who help her at gymnastics and mommy’s best friend Chelle who came to visit (because she makes mommy smile a lot).

Isn’t it amazing how something so simple and easy to a preschooler can be so much deeper to you? I started to realize how thankful I should be for the people in MY world, rather than bogged down with the anxiety some things might bring. Being a mother and wife is difficult, but they’re also the two roles that keep my world spinning. And they’ve made me so much closer to the other people in my world. I have such a large, wonderful world of people. From my own family to my work «family,» I need these people in my day-to-day life. Not just to get tasks done or for babysitting, but because they fill a little piece of my world. And my girlfriends, they’re so, so, so much a part of my world that without them I’m not sure it would remain spinning. And surprisingly, the group of girls I’m blessed to coach. Sure, I want to pull my hair out from time to time because they can’t seem to see the amazing talent they have, but you know what? They keep me young. And they make me laugh. And they keep me on my toes. In the best possible way.

Our worlds are made up of so much more than just jobs, houses, bills or things that we have to do. The more diverse and big and welcome we make our world, the more amazing things we’ll have to be thankful for.

Or at least, that’s what my daughter seems to think. And I can’t help but wonder if she’s the teacher and I’m the one who should be learning.

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