When I'm stressed, I bake. Yesterday I made banana bread, but that didn't help enough. You see, my brakes failed on my way home. *Yikes* There's nothing like driving at 65 mph on a highway pumping your brakes like a mad woman. The master cylinder is going out, so I am sans car. I can only read and prep for class so much before I go nutty from sitting, so I bake.
Today I tried to cheer myself with my favorite recipe: lemon bars. Tried and true, they are better than anything I have found from any bakery or restaurant...they are nice and tangy instead of sugar driven, and I hoard the recipe while stroking the book and calling it "Precious"...not really, but you get the idea. Anyhow, after baking the crust I go to pour the lemon batter on top and it rips a hole in the crust, which now floats in the lemon goo. Sure, it'll still taste good, but it won't look pretty. As a visual artist, this is less than satisfactory.
I am not happy. It is the first time EVER I have had this happen, and I am enraged (well, mildly put-out). I have been foiled by the kitchen gods. "Poppycocks!" I cry! (I just read a book about drunk scottish and irish faeries in New York called The Good Fairies of New York, so it seemed fitting). In more American vernacular, it sucks.
1 comment:
Oh I am soo sorry! But they did taste Divine!!
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