I wasn't trying to be practical. 

I was inspired, and we all know that inspiration tends towards the romantic. After two days of dreaming up, preparing for, and making these cupcakes, I must say I am in love. 

That is, if love can come in the form of a moist and fluffy lemon cupcake topped off with a slice of candied lemon. 

And though making candied lemon slices for these homemade cupcakes may not have been the most efficient use of my time ten days before Christmas, it helped me ignore the stress.

For those of you out there who need to be pragmatic this holiday season, I suppose these cupcakes would stand alone without the candied lemon slice. 

Sigh.

Candied Meyer Lemon Cupcakes  Makes 16 cupcakes

Adapted from Gourmet Magazine; original recipe for buttermilk cupcakes here

For the cupcakes

• 2 Cups Cake Flour
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 stick unsalted butter, at room temperature
• 1 Cup sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 1 tsp lemon extract
• 1/2 tsp freshly grated lemon peel
• 2 large eggs
• 1 cup shaken buttermilk
• candied meyer lemon slices (can be made 2 days in advance)

• 3 tablespoons finely grated lemon peel
• 1/4 tsp kosher salt
• 1 stick of butter, at room temperature
• 4 Cups of powdered sugar, packed

Preheat the oven to 350F. Prepare cupcake tins with paper liners, or spray with canola oil.

Combine flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a large bowl. 

In the bowl of an electric mixer, combine the butter and the sugar. Beat until light and fluffy (about 3-4 minutes). Add the vanilla extract, lemon extract, and lemon peel. Add each egg, one at a time, beating until just combined after each addition. With mixer on low, add the buttermilk until just combined. Add the flour mixture in two batches, beating until just combined after each addition.

Fill each muffin cup halfway (do not overfill- these cupcakes will rise a lot). Bake for about 20 minutes, rotating their position halfway through baking. Cool the cupcakes on a rack until at room temperature.

Make the frosting:

In the bottom of an electric mixer, mash the lemon peel with the salt until a paste-like consistency forms (you can use the bottom of a spoon to do this).

Add the butter, and cream the mixture until light and fluffy (about 3 minutes). 

Add the sugar in four batches, mixing well after each addition.

Putting it all together:

Frost each cupcake liberally with the lemon frosting. Add a candied lemon slice as a garnish for each cupcake.

Enjoy wholeheartedly, and without any holiday guilt.

This weekend, I found myself standing face to face with a bag of meyer lemons. 

All weekend long I had been obsessively pondering what would be next on my baking list. I perused all the local apple varieties at my Whole Foods dreaming up apple cakes, but failing to feel inspired. I even considered the ruby-red fresh cranberries stacked up so nicely along the back wall.

But it was the meyer lemons who spoke to me. Face to face with them, I knew only wonderful things could come from their purchase. 

You see, it was nearly a year ago that I was converted by these cookies. Never before had I really enjoyed lemon desserts. Who knew that a thing so simple as a lemon sandwich cookie could be so life-changing?

Now, I dreamt up a lemon-buttermilk cupcake topped with buttercream and a candied lemon slice.

We'll begin with how to make the candied lemon slices.

Candied Meyer Lemon Slices

Recipe adapted from Zen Can Cook

Meyer lemons are only in season during the winter months. They are sweeter and juicier than the typical lemon varieties available at most grocery stores, and I do my best to use them when they are available.

• 3 Meyer Lemons
• 3 1/2 Cups Sugar
• 4 Cups Water

Remove the lemons from the freezer and slice as thinly as possible (warning: this part is tricky).

Place the lemon slices into the simmering syrup and process for fifteen minutes. 

Strain and set aside for ten minutes. (Note: save the strained lemon syrup as a holiday drink mixer.)

Combine the remaining sugar and water (2 cups each) in your sauce pan and bring to a boil again.

Place the lemons in the boiling water; simmer for 30 additional minutes.

Strain the lemons. 

Place the candied lemon slices on a single layer of parchment. Allow to come to room temperature. Cover with another layer of parchment and refrigerate until further use.

Resist the urge to eat them all.

Now, for those cupcakes. . . . stay tuned.

As a child, I looked forward to eating Grandma Angie's cherry Christmas cookies every year. As an adult, I enjoy honoring her tradition and the memories these cookies bring back. Read on for the story, or scroll down for Grandma Angie's recipe.

Grandma Angie with a bratty young me, 1983 

Grandma Angie was the stereotypical Grandmother: kind, nurturing, good at spoiling young children, and excellent at baking things. 

As a child, I loved visiting Grandma Angie's. I knew that I would receive something sweet: butterfingers, cookies, or an entire container of cool whip (seriously) if only I joined her to watch Wheel of Fortune. 

Most of the treats she gave me were things my parents rarely allowed me to eat. So I would hide my treats in a very secret place: the top drawer of my nightstand. 

My mother could often be found dumping butterfingers out of this drawer, much to my dismay. 

This Thanksgiving, my dad compared me to Grandma Angie as he watched the quantities of butter I used. It was a holiday, after all, and despite my general belief in eating healthy and fresh things, holidays presume the honoring of family traditions. In my family's case, butter is a big tradition.

Dad explained that whenever grandma's cooking was complimented, she decided that it was the butter, eggs, or cream that made it good. Thus, every year, she would add more butter, more eggs, and more cream. Apparently, by the time she hosted her last Thanksgiving, it had gotten out of hand.

This is why I was not surprised to discover that my favorite childhood Christmas cookie's primary ingredient is butter. In fact, there are only four other ingredients: sugar, flour, vanilla, and a maraschino cherry on top of each cookie. 

Clearly, maraschino cherries are not something I seek out these days. My adult-self does not believe that something so sugary and processed can rightfully even be called a cherry. But, in honoring tradition once a year, I do break out a jar of the sweet red "cherries" I loved as a child.

In fact, as a child I was addicted to maraschino cherries. Growing up in a small town, I'd dictated a rule for dining at each of the town's two restaurants. When I ordered a Shirley Temple, it had to arrive with a maraschino cherry for each year of my life. At the age of 4 or 5, this wasn't too much of a problem. But, when I turned 9, my sister-- who was a waitress at one of the restaurants-- put her foot down. From then on, I was only allowed one cherry. This was very disappointing.

Perhaps that is why I was so excited when Grandma baked these cookies for Christmas. I could eat multiple cookies, and multiple cherries all at the same time. What a wonderful, wonderful thing.

As an adult, I can see why Grandma Angie liked making these. They are so simple, appropriately festive, and an all-around good cookie. I whipped together a batch of these in no time last night, and they turned out well. These would be the perfect cookie to bake in a crunch before a holiday gathering. If you don't have maraschino cherries in your pantry, you can use some homemade jam instead.

Grandma Angie's Christmas Cherry Butter Cookies

Makes 4 dozen small cookies

• 2 sticks butter
• 8 TBS white sugar
• 2 cups flour (scant cups)
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 24 Maraschino cherries, halved

Grandma Angie's Directions:

Cream sugar and butter. Add vanilla. Add flour until combined. 

Roll into small balls, each the size of a small walnut.

Press a cherry in the center of each one, for decoration.

Bake on un-greased baking sheet at 400 F for 15 minutes.