for your daughters birthday you get matching tattoos - in Arabic - when you are not from the middle east and one of you is a minor. Allah only knows what they actually say. And I may add that the money spent on these may have been better applied to say...... car insurance or senior pictures that we keep dropping hints we can't pay for or perhaps for at least an attempt at paying the taxes on the house you are loosing!!!!
Sometimes I get these ideas that I am going to make some spectacular dessert that will be just awe inspiring and I will suddenly be on the news being interviewed about the best dessert anyone ever tasted and I will be humble yet brilliant and everyone will try it and it will be worshipped. And inevitably I will sabotage myself and waste about one billion dollars and like a year of my life that i do not have to loose on something that melts into a puddle. (since the last jello mold experience --- well lets just say it was so nasty the little pieces of fruit were running faster than the liquid)
So I score this recipe for a cheese cake that sounds (as they always do, those sirens) amazing, and i get a loan for the ingredients (despite a serious stomach volcano whilst shopping- ick to the grocery store restroom).
I get the thing made, 2 hours of prep, maybe a slight exaggeration, and place it in my brand new spring form pan, in a deep pan of boiling water and balance the whole boiling goopy mess into my oven at 325 for 40 minutes. I go back to my recipe and note that it was supposed to be 1 1/2 cups of sugar not 1/2 cup of sugar! OMG! I run into the kitchen yank open the oven, grab my mits and carefully lift the spring form pan out of the boiling water past the oven door and wap it into the stove because i could not manage to raise it the 1 millionth of an inch more it would take to clear the stove. So about a cup of the golden goo splashed all over the place. Then in my brilliant mind i can take the cup of sugar I forgot and mix it in , post assembly of the cheese cake. I am not sure why i thought this was okay, but since the TV crew was not filming me at the moment, i guess I thought it okay. so I mixed it in carefully with a teaspoon and convinced myself that it was still going to be amazing.
I put it back in the oven, reminder to all, if your oven mits get wet the heat goes right through to your hands and you have to start like cussing so you do not drop your cheese cake. but you will slosh some on the oven door which will burn off later.
I go back to the recipe to read about what to do when my 40 minutes were up, and i realize the 1 1/2 cups of sugar was TOTAL sugar. 1/2 cup in the cake and 1 cup for the topping. DAMN IT. Well, i am not giving up now and i let the stupid cake bake and of course, the 40 minutes is not enough and i bake it 20 more minutes and it looks okay.
It is supposed to stay in the fridge for 4 hours or overnight, and i just figure that 3 hours is good enough and i yank it out and un-springform pan the thing. And I read the recipe which says to put the cup of sugar on top and then put under the broiler. Which is all good, and I do that when I notice that i was NOT supposed to unspringform the stupid thing. (Damn it, foiled yet again by that whole reading the recipe thing) and it begins to melt all over the broiler, then i yank it out, flinging chunks of cheese cake about the kitchen.
I scrape the entire thing in a bowl. Cheese Puddin. Not bad. Little gritty maybe.
Oh it is spectacular! We have 6 solid scenes and we are interactive with our pillary (look it up) - I have to admit it is fun! The neighbor kids are enthralled! As of course is Fat Cat! And for those who have not heard, I have spent this summer giving my house an updo. Wood floors (okay the WT version of wood, pergo) in the living room, dining room, and family room. Which of course means painting and cleaning while the rooms are vacant. it looks like an entire new house!! Of course I have had to give up smoking and eating to hve them but it is really nice!
Slowly moving out of my self loathing indulgent slump and am working on unmuddling myself. As bizarre as it sounds, the way out has been inspired by my ex boss. In a desperate state she had to call my current boss and beg me to come over and help her. Yeah that is right. The Beatch has herself in a whole and i am the only one that can help!!! (In case you cannot see me, I am a dancing fool!) I have loved every second, I don't have to say a word, it is so sweet and perfect!