I have always wanted to be a wonderful cook - I have heard so many stories about my great grandma and what a wonderful cook she was, and I have always hoped some of those genes rubbed off on me. Unfortunately, I seem to turn into a MAJOR blonde the minute I step into the kitchen. I have provided my roommates endless entertainment over the years. Despite the hilarity, things usually turn out okay - so maybe I did get some of the good cook genes.
In an attempt at not taking myself so seriously - and in trying to follow Elder Wirthlin's advice to be able to laugh at yourself, I am posting the following true story. Just to make myself feel better I have to disclose that this occurred towards the end of a VERY long week, after I had just spent 12 hours at work.
My coworker was having a birthday and I wanted to do something special for her. She is allergic to gluten and I had some leftover gluten free flour that I had used in a cake for Halloween (another blonde moment, another story). So, I figured I would make her some muffins. I found a recipe on-line and started in on the muffins while chatting with my sister on the phone (note, if you are a blonde in the kitchen - it probably isn't the best idea to multi-task while working there). Despite this, my first batch turned out pretty good. But, I only had 12 muffins. There are exactly 12 people in my office, not including me, plus I work with a bunch of guys, so I knew I needed more. The only problem was that I didn't quite have enough flour for a full second batch. No big deal I thought, I had 1 cup of flour left and it called for 1 1/2 cups - so I can just third everything and make two thirds of a batch, right? So, still talking on the phone, I start a second batch. I peek in on the muffins and they are rapidly expanding in the tin - oozing out of the pan and on to the oven. Thinking I just filled them too full, I put a cookie sheet underneath them to catch any more drippings and shut the door to let them finish cooking. Then the smoke started. I hurried and opened the oven and pulled out the muffins - which were by this point looking more like tart cups than muffins. And watched in horror as a fire ignited in my oven!
Yes, some of the batter that came out of the cups caught on fire! My sister is still on the phone, laughing at me, and I am trying to get my brain to work enough to figure out what to do. Finally I just shut the door in the hopes it would all go away.
Needless to say, my coworkers got exactly 12 muffins, and I could only hope I didn't mess them up too badly since I didn't get to try one.
In an attempt at not taking myself so seriously - and in trying to follow Elder Wirthlin's advice to be able to laugh at yourself, I am posting the following true story. Just to make myself feel better I have to disclose that this occurred towards the end of a VERY long week, after I had just spent 12 hours at work.
My coworker was having a birthday and I wanted to do something special for her. She is allergic to gluten and I had some leftover gluten free flour that I had used in a cake for Halloween (another blonde moment, another story). So, I figured I would make her some muffins. I found a recipe on-line and started in on the muffins while chatting with my sister on the phone (note, if you are a blonde in the kitchen - it probably isn't the best idea to multi-task while working there). Despite this, my first batch turned out pretty good. But, I only had 12 muffins. There are exactly 12 people in my office, not including me, plus I work with a bunch of guys, so I knew I needed more. The only problem was that I didn't quite have enough flour for a full second batch. No big deal I thought, I had 1 cup of flour left and it called for 1 1/2 cups - so I can just third everything and make two thirds of a batch, right? So, still talking on the phone, I start a second batch. I peek in on the muffins and they are rapidly expanding in the tin - oozing out of the pan and on to the oven. Thinking I just filled them too full, I put a cookie sheet underneath them to catch any more drippings and shut the door to let them finish cooking. Then the smoke started. I hurried and opened the oven and pulled out the muffins - which were by this point looking more like tart cups than muffins. And watched in horror as a fire ignited in my oven!
Yes, some of the batter that came out of the cups caught on fire! My sister is still on the phone, laughing at me, and I am trying to get my brain to work enough to figure out what to do. Finally I just shut the door in the hopes it would all go away.
Needless to say, my coworkers got exactly 12 muffins, and I could only hope I didn't mess them up too badly since I didn't get to try one.
Proof of my hair color is in the pictures below.
