Sunday, August 28, 2011

Caution: Angry Baker

Yesterday I was Ms. Crankypants. Maybe it was the headache that I woke up with or just something in the air, but either way I wasn't a happy girl.

When I need some solace, I always hit the kitchen, but yesterday it just wasn't working. I wanted to do peach frozen yogurt, but realized I hadn't frozen my ice cream machine's bowl. Scratch that. Make it tomorrow.

Then, I thought I'd try a new banana bread recipe. Nothing is better than banana bread with chocolate and pecans, right? I mixed and mashed, poured, and...something didn't seem right. The recipe that I was following called for a 9x5 inch loaf pan, which was exactly what I was using, but there seemed to be far too much batter.

It will be fine, I reasoned. Everything else from this book has been fine.

No, you are going to have an overflowing mess in your oven, my brain countered.

Na, this is a good book. Trust it.

I measured the loaf pan to be absolutely sure. Yep, it was the right dimensions. Throwing caution to the winds and squelching my common sense, I put the pan in the oven and proceeded to make cookies, before realizing that I was out of flour. And oatmeal. Then eggs, too. This is epic, people.

I NEVER run out of flour.

A run to the store to get a few much needed ingredients, and a mere 25 minutes later I could smell it as soon as I opened the door. Not freshly baked banana bread wafting through the house, but rather, something burning. Something like this:

Exploded Banana Bread

The photo doesn't show the mounds of batter that were dripping all down the oven racks and onto the bottom of the oven, clumping up in burned heaps. Smoke poured from the oven as I threw open all the windows and doors and finally pulled the offending banana bread from it's spot and set it on the stove.

A complaint on twitter, a cup of tea later, I scooped out all the mess and began to make cookies. At least those could be waiting for my guys when they came home right? I was still smarting about the waste of chocolate chips and pecans from the banana bread. Mix, measure, pour, dump almost an entire jar of applesauce on the counter, and soon I was pulling cookies out of the oven. Until the pan that held the final six, of course. I'm not sure what happened-they needed a little longer, and too distracted with other goings on, I forgot about them and only realized they were still baking JUST before they were beyond saving.

I really shouldn't bake when I'm cranky.

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