Posts Tagged With: baking

I Bequeth My Carrot Birthday Cake from Hell

Daily Prompt:  LegacyWrite a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.

I’m a quilter not a baker.  I hate to bake.  I’m not good at it and my failures over the years are legion.  Most kids bring homemade cookies or cupcakes to school to share.  Mine brought bags of potato chips.

But, for some reason my carrot cake gets rave reviews.  My son requests it every year for his birthday.  Why?  I’m convinced it’s because it is the most difficult, expensive, frustrating, anxiety-producing, time-consuming cake in the world.  It’s true … paybacks are hell,  but I can’t remember what I did to that child to demand such retribution.


So, I started by assembling all the tools and ingredients I needed and told myself to remain calm, stay organized, take my time and clean up as I go.


Things deteriorated almost immediately.  My printer ran out of ink so I was working from the recipe on my Kindle that kept shutting down then sliding out of my hands because of the oil, eggs and buttermilk on my fingers. I panic very easily when I’m baking.


OK – I get that it’s three layer cake because it’s so dense.  But I don’t understand why I have to oil and flour each pan and still cut out parchment paper to cover the bottoms and then oil and flour the parchment paper.


Thank heaven for food processors or I’d still be grating carrots, chopping walnuts and shredding coconut.


Ta da!  I finally got everything into one bowl and it smells and tastes like … carrot cake!


Looking good, right?  I’m so proud of myself.


But, I don’t understand “Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean”.  After 30 minutes the toothpick looked clean, but I wasn’t completely sure.  So, I baked for another 3 minutes and then did the toothpick thing again and still wasn’t sure.  After the third toothpick, I noticed the cakes’ edges looked really brown so I removed the pans from the oven and the anxiety kicked in — under-baked, over-baked who knows?  It’s kind of like a new recipe that say, “Adjust seasonings to taste.”  But if you don’t know what it’s supposed to taste like….?


And then the cleanup … seems like I used every surface, utensil, bowl and appliance in my kitchen. There was so much flour in the air that I had an asthma attack and had to stop to use my inhaler twice.


You think I was kidding about the flour in the air and on every surface?  I laid my spatula down and when I picked it up, there was its silhouette.  After the kitchen counters were washed, the bowls, utensils and appliances cleaned I still had to mop the floor and wipe down the cabinets.  I turned the A/C on to clear the air.  What a production!  We won’t even talk about the icing.


Happy Birthday, Matt.

When the birthday boy tasted his cake I learned the good news and the bad news … the good news was that it was absolutely delicious; the bad news is that I’m going to have to do it again next year.





Categories: Daily Prompt, Food, Humor, Life, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , | 4 Comments

Explain to me again why I have to bake cookies?

If the good Lord wanted us to bake cookies why did he give us Nabisco or Keebler or Famous Amos?  Why should I have to try to do what they do so much better?  Because my granddaughter had to bring 15 cookies to kindergarten for their Halloween party and she wanted to make the cookies.

She’s been baking with her dad for years so I figured she knew what she was doing.  But try asking a 5 year old what temperature to set the oven or how much vanilla to use.  Very cute blank stare.  She wanted to make chocolate chocolate chip cookies.  First we had to go to the grocery since the only flour in my pantry had little black things in it and the lid on the cocoa was rusted, no brown sugar or baking soda either.

I can tile the floors of an entire house, I can quilt, I can set up a camper (and empty the holding tanks).  I can cook a seven-course meal, make the tablecloth and matching napkins, I can make the centerpiece and do the calligraphy on the invitations, I can make the name settings from pine cones and ribbons — but I can’t bake cookies.  I don’t want to bake cookies.  I hate to bake cookies.  When my son was in second grade his teacher sent a note home asking me not to send baked goods to school for his class.  I think she mentioned a chipped tooth.

Rebekah lost interest in the baking process after she licked the mixers and I was left with enough dough to make 5 dozen cookies.  The only good thing was the parchment paper I found in my quilting room that I use for patterns.  The cookies slid right off the baking sheet even the burned ones.  So, we packed them up in a plastic container for tomorrow’s party.  Then I was faced with cleaning up the bowls of leftover concrete-hard cookie dough, the flour and sugar all over the granite top counters and the recently washed floor, put away the ingredients I won’t need until another grandchild wants to make cookies (the youngest is 14 days old so the flour may have black things in it again).

Let’s face it … a bunch of kindergartners are going to enjoy the fruit of my blood, sweat and tears and, to be honest, they’d rather eat Oreos. So would I.

Categories: Family, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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