Chocolate nutella cupcakes

This week marked the great exodus from my apartment to my parent's house. I'm officially homeless for the next couple of weeks, but more so, I'm kitchen-less. Its difficult baking in a kitchen you're unfamiliar with. You don't know where anything is, how finicky the oven can be, and in a way it puts you out of your baking groove.

Growing up, my parent's kitchen was a danger zone. For the most part I was prohibited from entering and when allowed to help, I was assigned menial tasks like peeling garlic. Yay, another head of garlic to peel. Woo! You see, some people have two left feet. As a child I had two left hands. I have many a memory of breaking dishes, my mother yelling at me to stand frozen where I was while she scurried around me with a broom or dust-buster.