Imagine what you could do if you knew you could not fail.

Monday, February 11, 2008

It hit us AGAIN!

We are sick again. Darn it. This time it started with Athena. Her throat was hurting on Friday, and by evening it had turned into an all-night fever. She passed it to Samantha and Alexandra on Saturday and Sunday. Today Jeremy is home from work, in bed, with a fever. I'm guessing Nathan and I are next. That gives me something to look forward to.

Dessert Disaster
Last night we went to Mama and Daddy's for dinner. I was assigned to bring a dessert. That turned into a comic disaster. For some reason, I just wasn't paying any attention to anything as I was making the dessert. Maybe it was because I was taking care of so many other things at the time. I made Toffee Bars - a 3-layer dessert with a crust, a carmel-like middle, and chocolate spread on top.

When I was making the crust, I accidentally put in 1 cup of sugar instead of 1/2 cup. I just wasn't thinking. Then I put the crust in to bake. When the timer went off, I checked in the oven. Instead of seeing a nicely browned crust, my crust was boiling. Because I was short on time, I pulled it out of the oven, poured some flour on it to absorb some butter, patted the flour down into the boiling parts, and put it into the oven for another 5 minutes. That kind of worked.

As the crust was cooking, I started making the middle. I put sweetened condensed milk on the stove in a pan with some butter so I could bring it to boiling. Well, I forgot to stir for a minute and burned the bottom slightly. All these brown pieces kept coming off the bottom as I stirred because it burned a little. Luckily it didn't affect the taste.

Then I took my crust out and poured on the middle part. Then I put the mixture back into the oven to cook the middle part so it turns out chewy. Well, halfway through the cooking process I had to go to the bathroom. When I came out the timer had gone off. I don't know how long it had been since the timer went off because I didn't look to see how much time there was when I left. I pulled it out of the oven and instead of being nicely chewy in the middle, the edges were all burned.

The top part required that I pour on chocolate chips, let them melt a minute, then spread evenly across the top. I put on the chips and waited. Then I began to spread. None of the chips would spread. They were melted alright, but when I tried to spread them, they just clumped together in chocolatey clumps. DANG IT!

It was time to go - so I just grabbed the pan and we were out the door.

I think the funniest part about the whole thing was watching Mama and Jeremy desperately trying to delve into their dessert. It wouldn't come out of the pan, so the 2 of them were over there with a knife and a spatula digging this way and that to get at whatever crumbs would come out. It became a contest to see who could taste the dessert first!

Eventually we did get it out of the pan. It looked sloppy, but surprisingly it still tasted pretty good! I guess I won't be asked to bring dessert again.


Chinchia said...

You are just one disaster after another. I think you should just stay home from now on. Just order grocery delivery and home school your kids. And don't forget, NEVER go to the bathroom when you have something in the oven. That is pretty much a guarantee that it will burn. Now you know. Sheesh, some people just have to learn the hard way.

Mama Cat said...

I learned that lesson the hard college, once, I was home alone and decided to make cookies. I put a batch in the oven and--trying not to waste precious time--wondered, "What could I do in the meantime?" So, smart gal that I am, I got in the shower, not even making the connection in my brain that my cookies would be done before I got out. So I took my shower, and when I got out I thought, "Hmmm...that's odd. It smells like something's burning. I better go see what it is." HE-LLO! To this day, I can't believe I did that. I had used my roommate's good cookie sheet, too, and she flipped a lid when she saw the burn marks on it. I never did admit I had done it, which I still feel bad about. Needless to say, I've never done that again.

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