(no subject)
I finally made my mom's recipe for whoopie pies. I halved it, as she suggested, because this is one of those recipes developed in the days when you had to make an awful lot of everything, either because you had a big family, or a big church. Or both. (And they were the same thing.) Anyway, I wimped out on halving the vanilla cream filling part because I doubted my ability to beat a single egg white properly. In retrospect, I should have beaten two egg whites, then thrown out half of the result. Because now I have an impressively large amount of leftover vanilla cream filling. Seriously. It could frost a layer cake.
And holy cow does the recipe take a lot of shortening. Which is probably my least favorite ingredient to deal with. I know it's just vegetable oil, but something about the consistency is inherently icky. (Eggs are my second least favorite, because they are fussy. I like what they do to my baking, though.)
In the adventure which is learning to be more emotionally open, I have to remind myself that something that took better than two decades to build is going to take more than a weekend to break down.
And holy cow does the recipe take a lot of shortening. Which is probably my least favorite ingredient to deal with. I know it's just vegetable oil, but something about the consistency is inherently icky. (Eggs are my second least favorite, because they are fussy. I like what they do to my baking, though.)
In the adventure which is learning to be more emotionally open, I have to remind myself that something that took better than two decades to build is going to take more than a weekend to break down.