I feel very touched for all your lovely wishes, and I loved the different and inspired moons I got. Thanks to wren for creating this goal for me :)
I want to share a funny anecdote that I recalled when I saw Lisa’s photo of a birthday cake. This anecdote has all the ingredients of my goal live creatively, love passionately, laugh uncontrollably, learn constantly. Too bad I don’t have a picture of this, so I’ll rely on my written recount (bakers will roll in the aisles with this):
When I was thirteen years old —30 years ago! ::gasp::— and in my first year of junior high school, I entered the annual cake contest of my school because of my passion for baking and participating. They would judge by taste and originality. The rules were that you had to make it (not bought). To prove it, you had to bring the recipe and the mold. I had only made cakes from prepared packages and somehow I thought that was not allowed, that it had to be made completely from scratch.
So I searched in this huge “cooking encyclopedia” at home (learn), and found a recipe that called for orange zest and the like, the kind of cake really made from scratch. So there I go to the bakery to buy a huge chunk of yeast —the one that looks like a gray bar of butter and tastes quite bitter/sour, and it’s used for bread not cakes; then I had no idea about the powdered kind, nor of baking really— and to another store to buy aluminum foil and cardboard to make my mold (!) My original and creative cake would be a dice, a big dice, I’ll say about 8”x8”x8”, and there’s no mold that comes in that size (!!!) Of course not, for a reason!! So I make the mold with cardboard to hold it straight up and the aluminum so it wouldn’t burn and the dough wouldn’t drain.
So the mold is ready, and I embark on preparing the mix. I follow the directions accordingly, but I decide that, since the dough would have to rise 8” instead of the regular 2 or 3, well, just quadruple the amount of yeast! OMG! I’m laughing so hard it’s hard to continue… no this is not over…
So I fill up the “mold” to about 6” to give it room to rise to 8”. How did I come up with these calculations? Who knows? I put it in the oven and start cleaning up —seriously, few times in my life have I made such a mess of a kitchen!!
I come back to check after 30 min and see that nothing is happening, so I turn up the heat a notch. After another 30 min, nothing. Another 30 min, nothing. It’s supposed to be done, but it doesn’t rise, and I’m sure I put more yeast in it. Well, I suppose the recipe calls for 1 hour 20 minutes, but since my cake is taller, maybe it has to stay in the oven four times more?
I let it another 30 min, but by then my teenage patience has worn out, so I bring out the cake to check it. I insert a knife, and it comes out clean. It is indeed “done”; as done as a compact, condensed, thick, 4”high chunk ofcake block can be.
I was so disappointed and discouraged. It was midnight by then! I knew I could not compete with this “entry”, but I set it in the fridge for later consumption. After school, the next day, I unmold the very-unappealing mass. I try a little corner and spit it out immediately. They suggest me to give it to the dogs. Well, the dogs won’t eat it! Of course, they know better! It went directly to the trash where it belonged. If we had one at the time, I don’t think a compost bin could’ve handled it!
So there it is: my tale of utter nonfulfillment, but one that brings me uncontrollable laughter every time I remember it. And that makes it totally worth it! :)
I want to share a funny anecdote that I recalled when I saw Lisa’s photo of a birthday cake. This anecdote has all the ingredients of my goal live creatively, love passionately, laugh uncontrollably, learn constantly. Too bad I don’t have a picture of this, so I’ll rely on my written recount (bakers will roll in the aisles with this):
When I was thirteen years old —30 years ago! ::gasp::— and in my first year of junior high school, I entered the annual cake contest of my school because of my passion for baking and participating. They would judge by taste and originality. The rules were that you had to make it (not bought). To prove it, you had to bring the recipe and the mold. I had only made cakes from prepared packages and somehow I thought that was not allowed, that it had to be made completely from scratch.
So I searched in this huge “cooking encyclopedia” at home (learn), and found a recipe that called for orange zest and the like, the kind of cake really made from scratch. So there I go to the bakery to buy a huge chunk of yeast —the one that looks like a gray bar of butter and tastes quite bitter/sour, and it’s used for bread not cakes; then I had no idea about the powdered kind, nor of baking really— and to another store to buy aluminum foil and cardboard to make my mold (!) My original and creative cake would be a dice, a big dice, I’ll say about 8”x8”x8”, and there’s no mold that comes in that size (!!!) Of course not, for a reason!! So I make the mold with cardboard to hold it straight up and the aluminum so it wouldn’t burn and the dough wouldn’t drain.
So the mold is ready, and I embark on preparing the mix. I follow the directions accordingly, but I decide that, since the dough would have to rise 8” instead of the regular 2 or 3, well, just quadruple the amount of yeast! OMG! I’m laughing so hard it’s hard to continue… no this is not over…
So I fill up the “mold” to about 6” to give it room to rise to 8”. How did I come up with these calculations? Who knows? I put it in the oven and start cleaning up —seriously, few times in my life have I made such a mess of a kitchen!!
I come back to check after 30 min and see that nothing is happening, so I turn up the heat a notch. After another 30 min, nothing. Another 30 min, nothing. It’s supposed to be done, but it doesn’t rise, and I’m sure I put more yeast in it. Well, I suppose the recipe calls for 1 hour 20 minutes, but since my cake is taller, maybe it has to stay in the oven four times more?
I let it another 30 min, but by then my teenage patience has worn out, so I bring out the cake to check it. I insert a knife, and it comes out clean. It is indeed “done”; as done as a compact, condensed, thick, 4”high chunk of
I was so disappointed and discouraged. It was midnight by then! I knew I could not compete with this “entry”, but I set it in the fridge for later consumption. After school, the next day, I unmold the very-unappealing mass. I try a little corner and spit it out immediately. They suggest me to give it to the dogs. Well, the dogs won’t eat it! Of course, they know better! It went directly to the trash where it belonged. If we had one at the time, I don’t think a compost bin could’ve handled it!
So there it is: my tale of utter nonfulfillment, but one that brings me uncontrollable laughter every time I remember it. And that makes it totally worth it! :)
See more progress on: Wish LunaNueva a Creative, Passionate, Laughter-Filled 43rd Birthday on November 11th!
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