Once upon a time, in a land far far away called Pan, there lived a muffin called Buttermilk.

Her family tree could be traced back to 4 cups cake flour, 4 cups white sugar, 1 ½ cups cocoa powder, 20 ml baking powder in 2 cups buttermilk, 2 cups sunflower oil, 10 ml vanilla essence (but ultimately she was the product of the Baker) and 2 cups boiling water but she believed that she was different.

Every day her family and the other muffins turned up the heat by 250°C testing her strength, whisked out all (what they considered) her lumps, lined her cup tray with (what they considered) the truth, not even allowing her a teaspoon of authenticity. The Baker allowed them to do this for 20 minutes under their 180°C rule, testing her constantly with skewers to see if she would conform. She didn’t and even though she wasn’t voted Miss Blueberry or Poppy Seed she kept on believing in a miracle.

Why would the Baker allow this?

See, the Baker believed in one thing – it takes extreme heat to produce a masterpiece. His vision for Buttermilk was perfectly clear, even though he never shared his secret ingredient with Buttermilk. He took his time sourcing 200 grams of the richest chocolate and 50 ml of the finest cream and melted it into her destiny.

He took all her daily challenges and slowly added 500 grams of butter, 2 cups of icing sugar, 50 ml cream and 20 ml vanilla essence to form the icing on the cake.

And then one day the Baker lifted her gently and pierced her heart with a knife. She knew it! She was just like them. But then, suddenly, he started filling his betrayal with the softest Ganache and decorated her scars with the most decadent frosting.

The Baker stood back and admired his work, it was beautiful … a pure Miracle.