The hidden dangers of baking.
Y'all, let me tell you. Baking is super dangerous.
Not because of the threat of burning yourself. Not because of the herculean task of stifling the profanity that is threatening to break forth from your trembling lips when somehow the flour that was just in the bowl is now inexplicably all over you and the counter.
It's because it's edible.
Like any normal, sane girl, I love cupcakes. I have always preferred them to sliced cake, yet I almost never bake them, or anything else. (Have I mentioned how lazy I am? Yes? Good.) In anticipation of our first wedding anniversary, Patrick and I had been talking about how disgusting the hunk of frozen wedding cake in our freezer might be (turns out, not nearly as bad as we thought) and I decided we needed (oh yeah, needed) cupcakes so we'd have some kind of tasty treat to eat after having the obligatory bite of freezer-burnt tradition.
Some unknown drive to bake overtook me, and I started digging through the cupboards to see if we had all the ingredients on hand.
Flour? Check.
Sugar? Check.
Vanilla? Check.
Baking soda? Yup.
Milk and eggs? Uh-huh.
Butter? Oh no, do we have butter?! I'LL HAVE TO GO TO THE STORE RIGHT NOW AND GET BUTTER SO I CAN START BAKING IMMEDIATELY! HOW IS IT POSSIBLE WE HAVE NO BUTTER IN THIS HOUSE?!?! ARE WE ANIMALS--
Oh, oh--never mind. I found it. Yes, we have butter.
I tried to get fancy with the cupcakes by added lemon zest to the batter and made a lemon flavored icing. To try to improve the health quotient of the cupcakes, I used about 1/3 wheat flour. (I'm no longer convinced wheat flour is as amazing for your health as it's been claimed, but I guess it's still gotta be better that refined flour.) Although I know well enough that baking with wheat flour calls for some kind of adjustment in the liquids... or something, I am not adept at making adjustments for that kind of thing. So, while the cupcakes did turn out alright, they weren't great. The flavor was decent, but they were a little too dense and a little too dry.
As it turns out, I don't care if my cupcakes are a little dense, a little dry, and all around mediocre. I'll eat them. I'll eat them all--all 2 dozen of them if you let me. And therein lies the danger of baking.
I spent a week eating cupcakes as part of breakfast (for real--oatmeal then a cupcake), cupcakes for "dessert" after lunch at work, or as a mid-morning or mid-afternoon snack. My, dinner was delicious! Let's have a cupcake to celebrate how delicious that was! They disappeared at an alarmingly rapid rate.
Over the weekend I discovered that the last one of the 2 dozen cupcakes had been eaten by Patrick while I was out grocery shopping. On the one hand, I was all, "Aw, man! I wanted it!" On the other hand, I was all, "Well I did eat 18 cupcakes this week, sooo..."
This week, I'll be facing a mini sugar detox. Yet another danger of baking. Getting off the stuff. It's alarming how quickly your brain becomes addicted to having sweets.
If you see me and I have bags under my eyes, I'm slightly shaky and sweaty, and I ask you to slip me a pastry or baked good of any kind, don't do it. Please. I'll never recover if you enable me. Just pray for me, that I make it through this week with no cupcakes to get by on.
Not because of the threat of burning yourself. Not because of the herculean task of stifling the profanity that is threatening to break forth from your trembling lips when somehow the flour that was just in the bowl is now inexplicably all over you and the counter.
It's because it's edible.
Like any normal, sane girl, I love cupcakes. I have always preferred them to sliced cake, yet I almost never bake them, or anything else. (Have I mentioned how lazy I am? Yes? Good.) In anticipation of our first wedding anniversary, Patrick and I had been talking about how disgusting the hunk of frozen wedding cake in our freezer might be (turns out, not nearly as bad as we thought) and I decided we needed (oh yeah, needed) cupcakes so we'd have some kind of tasty treat to eat after having the obligatory bite of freezer-burnt tradition.
Some unknown drive to bake overtook me, and I started digging through the cupboards to see if we had all the ingredients on hand.
Flour? Check.
Sugar? Check.
Vanilla? Check.
Baking soda? Yup.
Milk and eggs? Uh-huh.
Butter? Oh no, do we have butter?! I'LL HAVE TO GO TO THE STORE RIGHT NOW AND GET BUTTER SO I CAN START BAKING IMMEDIATELY! HOW IS IT POSSIBLE WE HAVE NO BUTTER IN THIS HOUSE?!?! ARE WE ANIMALS--
Oh, oh--never mind. I found it. Yes, we have butter.
I tried to get fancy with the cupcakes by added lemon zest to the batter and made a lemon flavored icing. To try to improve the health quotient of the cupcakes, I used about 1/3 wheat flour. (I'm no longer convinced wheat flour is as amazing for your health as it's been claimed, but I guess it's still gotta be better that refined flour.) Although I know well enough that baking with wheat flour calls for some kind of adjustment in the liquids... or something, I am not adept at making adjustments for that kind of thing. So, while the cupcakes did turn out alright, they weren't great. The flavor was decent, but they were a little too dense and a little too dry.
As it turns out, I don't care if my cupcakes are a little dense, a little dry, and all around mediocre. I'll eat them. I'll eat them all--all 2 dozen of them if you let me. And therein lies the danger of baking.
I spent a week eating cupcakes as part of breakfast (for real--oatmeal then a cupcake), cupcakes for "dessert" after lunch at work, or as a mid-morning or mid-afternoon snack. My, dinner was delicious! Let's have a cupcake to celebrate how delicious that was! They disappeared at an alarmingly rapid rate.
Over the weekend I discovered that the last one of the 2 dozen cupcakes had been eaten by Patrick while I was out grocery shopping. On the one hand, I was all, "Aw, man! I wanted it!" On the other hand, I was all, "Well I did eat 18 cupcakes this week, sooo..."
This week, I'll be facing a mini sugar detox. Yet another danger of baking. Getting off the stuff. It's alarming how quickly your brain becomes addicted to having sweets.
If you see me and I have bags under my eyes, I'm slightly shaky and sweaty, and I ask you to slip me a pastry or baked good of any kind, don't do it. Please. I'll never recover if you enable me. Just pray for me, that I make it through this week with no cupcakes to get by on.
Comments
Post a Comment
Say something clever or complimentary. Bonus points for both at the same time!