if the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach…

…I’m going to end up as the crazy cat lady! 🙂

That’s right, I did some baking today. It was a Sunday afternoon, the world had been covered in snow and quite frankly, there’s nothing I’d rather do than try to bake something new while listening to the Top 40 Mix on iTunes radio.

Whenever I get the urge, I always try to include my roommate, Melissa. It’s a challenge, but not an unpleasant one, because she’s allergic to flour and eggs and lots of other things. Luckily for me, she buys substitutes and is brave enough to let me use them to try and bake special treats for her.

Another challenge that has reared its ugly head is our oven. You can’t even really call it an oven in my opinion, because it sits on top of our counter. It looks like a giant, beeping, blue-light microwave that’s about to take off into outer space. It will only fit certain sizes of pans if you’re lucky enough to have them, and then you have to learn its language. Does your cookbook say 350 F for 30 minutes? Better make it 375 F for 40, or else.

So here I was, today, flipping through cookbooks. I decided to go with a simple chocolate chip cookie recipe for Melissa, made with rice flour instead. No problem. Except that rice flour is a looooooot different to bake with than white flour. It has a very grainy consistency which, while tasting good, makes for a very different kind of cookie. To make a long story short, I ended up throwing 2 trays out after I’d baked them because they turned rock hard after they cooled off. Melissa saw that they were “running into each other” in the oven, becoming one big cookie, and suggested that I add a bit more flour. So I tried that, and then also took the cookies out earlier. And voila! Instant cookie deliciousness. 🙂

Since I had this experience without feeling completely defeated, I decided to continue on and make something totally new for myself – turtle squares. Months ago, I bought one can of sweetened condensed milk, just in case I ever decided I needed it. Well, that day was today.

But in the months that had gone by, someone had switched the label from “sweetened condensed milk” to “evaporated milk,” which I have now learned is not quite the same thing. It’s just like milk, only more the color of pablum. I thought I could redeem the thickness of the filling with my cornstarch.

I didn’t have any cornstarch, by the way. I googled “cornstarch replacements” and learned that if I boiled some sugar and water together, it was pretty much the same thing.

Not so.

I now have a perfectly good chocolate crust that has runny goopyness all over it; I am chilling it in the fridge and willing it to harden.

Whatever. This is where I eat my last Lindor chocolate of the Christmas season and start watching Spooks. Yes, rich milk chocolate and Richard Armitage – what better way to fulfill the typical stereotype?… and I just decided that I don’t care. *chomp*

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2 thoughts on “if the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach…

  1. You are just a bit looney you know! You should come and use my oven and I’ll even leave you my kids to entertain you while you’re here! Now I’ve superseded stellar haven’t I?

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