(no subject)
Oh, god, yum. I do love parmesan-encrusted chicken. I don't make it often enough. And hey, miracle of miracles, the crust actually came out nice this time. Usually, it's so thin and falls off when it's cooking, but this time it was nice and solid and it stayed on till I could eat it.
Also, while the pumpkin spice cake was an abysmal failure (seriously, I have no idea if I made it wrong or if it was supposed to taste like that, but it was terrible; no one could even pretend to like it), I have found a new cake for Thanksgiving! Although the baking of it involved a couple of... ahem, blunders, the orange cranberry cake has received the seal approval from Aunt D and Uncle B, and so is a go. God, I just want to make that cake again. It was so good, I just can't stand it.
But! I dunno, is it possible to feel vaguely adulterous about cake? I love the orange cranberry cake. I am committed to the orange cranberry cake. I'm taking the orange cranberry cake home to meet my family. But... the cranberry streusel cake looks delicious. I lust to make this cake. It is new, and exciting, and unknown.
Sigh. I will be faithful. I'm the good girl settling down with the investment banker orange cranberry cake while fantasizing about the bad boy cranberry steusel cake.
Seriously. I can't make the streusal cake. I'm not going to take anything to Thanksgiving that I haven't already tried, and if I make this cake, someone has to eat it. I'm sure as hell not eating a whole cake by myself, and I don't have anyone else to give it to. At least, no one who is not going to look at me and ask me "Why are you giving me a cake?" or, "Why are you trying to make me fat?"
Maybe next year.
Can it be Thanksgiving now?
Also, while the pumpkin spice cake was an abysmal failure (seriously, I have no idea if I made it wrong or if it was supposed to taste like that, but it was terrible; no one could even pretend to like it), I have found a new cake for Thanksgiving! Although the baking of it involved a couple of... ahem, blunders, the orange cranberry cake has received the seal approval from Aunt D and Uncle B, and so is a go. God, I just want to make that cake again. It was so good, I just can't stand it.
But! I dunno, is it possible to feel vaguely adulterous about cake? I love the orange cranberry cake. I am committed to the orange cranberry cake. I'm taking the orange cranberry cake home to meet my family. But... the cranberry streusel cake looks delicious. I lust to make this cake. It is new, and exciting, and unknown.
Sigh. I will be faithful. I'm the good girl settling down with the investment banker orange cranberry cake while fantasizing about the bad boy cranberry steusel cake.
Seriously. I can't make the streusal cake. I'm not going to take anything to Thanksgiving that I haven't already tried, and if I make this cake, someone has to eat it. I'm sure as hell not eating a whole cake by myself, and I don't have anyone else to give it to. At least, no one who is not going to look at me and ask me "Why are you giving me a cake?" or, "Why are you trying to make me fat?"
Maybe next year.
Can it be Thanksgiving now?