Beep beep, beep beep, buzzed the timer. The cookies were done! I grabbed the oven mitt and slowly opened the oven, only to be greeted by a cloud of hot, hot air and nothing else. The oven was empty. A tad startled and embarrassed, I glanced across the kitchen and saw the uncooked cookie dough still sitting on the baking sheet. ::sigh::
Not a big deal if I didn't need the cookies for a party for which we had to depart in ohhh let's say, 5 minutes.With its beady chocolate chip eyes, I swear I caught one of the cookies mocking me. Scrumptious chocolatey asshole.
Despite spending a significant portion of my life following recipes/protocols for scientific experiments and procedures, somehow I was never able to master cooking or baking. Whenever I attempt to make something edible, one (or sometimes more) of the following occurs:
- I forget to add an essential ingredient; you don't want to know how brownies sans cooking oil taste...
- I burn something; wait, simmer doesn't mean to cook on high?
- As in the case with the cookies, I start the timer but neglect to place the food in the pot or oven
So, I solemnly resign myself to continue following recipes from the Cream of Mushroom soup can label or the back of the StoveTop Stuffing box. I will continue to pray that these dishes turn out somewhat palatable and God willing, that they do not turn into incendiaries.
Ladies who (like me) hide behind that blue box of Mac & Cheese in trepidation, I raise my misused and {slightly} abused spatula to you in solidarity - and so does Carina. Fear not, for our worth as wives and mothers is not based upon the quality (or edibleness) of our epicurean endeavors.
On that note, I must cross my fingers and go remove the frozen pizza from the oven. I hope I actually put it inside the oven before starting the timer this go-round.
Originally published at Jenni from the Blog (who, by the way, is partying it up here in NYC with me this weekend!)
