Dispatches From London: A Tiny piece of America

I’m always a bit caught off guard when an American trend invades England. Three years ago, posh bowling alleys were springing up all over SoHo and cheerleading and line-dancing are available at the hottest dance studios in London. There’s one I’ve been avoiding though, as I think it’s almost too silly. However, when one of my best high school friends asks me to indulge in the hottest trend that’s not going away, how could I say no? So on a sunny Sunday we found ourselves scouring South Kensington for a little piece of America: the perfect cupcake.

I hadn’t realised that cupcakes were oh-so-American until a few years back I was subjected to a school fete and the English bake sale. I encountered “fairy cakes” and are kind of like the American cupcake’s lackluster discount-bin version. Smaller, a bit deformed, and yes, they taste nice as anything with butter, sugar, and flour will do – but a home-baked good with none of the home-baked goodness. No wonder Hummingbird Bakery turns out 2,000 cupcakes a day.

Since Hummingbird opened its doors in 2003 in West London’s Nottinghill they unexpectatantly started the London cupcake craze winning over the likes of Elle Macpherson and Gwyneth Paltrow. Suddenly Kate Moss led the fashionistas to the cake like moths to the flame after she was seen buying them at Primrose Bakery in North London. Soon Outsider Tart became the official cupcake provider at London Fashion Week and Lily Jones, a designer-turned-cupcake maker (Lily Vanilli), started selling in trendy East London at Swanfield Market and at the Vintage Heaven shop on Columbia Road. And they’re all expanding. Hummingbird opened in South Kensington (where I did my “research”), released a cookbook, and is due to open a third location in SoHo. Covent Garden is now covered by Candy Cakes and a second Primrose Bakery.

Keen to cash in on the tiny cake, megachain M&S recently sent a team to the Institute of Culinary Education of New York to study—you guessed it—American cupcake baking in hopes of adapting them to the mass British market. Outsider Tart appears to be  the only true ex-pat enterprise on the cupcake scene, (even Hummingbird is owned by an American-educated Brit). Their website explains their journey:

“A couple of professional guys moved from the United States to live and work in London last year -but discovered that good, wholesome, home made cupcakes, sweet pies and fresh tarts were hard  to come by. Outsiders as they both are, they set about rectifying what they saw.”

You can find them at farmer’s markets and SoHo on Sundays.  

Not all Brits have been pleased about the cupcake invasion. Columnist Jan Moir at the Daily Mail weighed in on the debate with this pleasing anti-American rant:

“What is going on? There’s something so un-British about the cupcake. It’s all flounce and flummery, paved with butter cream so thick emit bat creams of horror. Yet just like the GIs, it is oversexed, over-paved and over here.”

Fairies and Frosting

So why all the fuss? What’s the difference anyway between American cupcakes and British fairy cakes anyway? Can’t we all just get along?

Firstly, it seems to be in the design. Fairy cakes have a domed, rounded top while cupcakes are flat. Fairy cakes are smaller whilst the American counterpart is, well, American-sized. Then there’s the cake itself or lack of it—cupcakes have a higher ratio of frosting to cake (1/3 to 2/3) and there’s butter cream in the sponge. Research has found that the British palate cannot handle the sickly sweetness of a traditional cupcake and M&S product designers had to tone down the cakes for the Brits with some fruit compote in the centre.

And most importantly according to my cupcake companion Katherine, is the topping. Call it icing in England or frosting in America, the design is where the cupcake puts the fairy cake to shame. Cupcakes are drowned in butter cream and ornate designs and traditionally, fairy cakes had a thin, watery layer of icing sugar with lemon. Judging by the display in the storefront, Hummingbird has capitalised on there just being something innately cute about cupcakes.

After some debate in the fast moving queue, Katherine settled on a cherry cupcake. “It’s a tiny piece of luxury in tough times,” she explained. We emerged into the sunshine to walk along the Thames and catch-up about our respective ex-pat lives in London. And the cost for a tiny piece of luxury? At Hummingbird they range from £1.55 to £1.85.

Check out the Hummingbird Bakery’s Website here.