- Or -
Cupcakes 1, Chairman Pow 0
Because I’ve been eating prune kolacke like a octogenarian (and the girlfriend was a bit tired of the aftereffects) and we couldn’t find a halfway decent cake to save our lives, she decided to bring home some stuff to make cupcakes. Of course, not being the sorts to actually bake a cake when prune kolacke are available (I thought they were blueberry!), we had to acquire all sorts of baking accessories.
Finally, with all assembled, I decided to surprise her by making them before she got home. To do this, I had to get over my fear of breaking eggs (don’t ask). Surprisingly, that went well until I realized that I had forgotten the butter in the toaster oven!
I grabbed the butter out and saw that the little tray that was supposed to save you from doing something stupid like putting things that drip excessively was nearly full and threatening to drip onto the heating elements.
Fortunately, I saved the butter in time, but unfortunately, I found out that I was nearly too stupid to use the toaster oven.
Then began mixing. I put everything into the bowl and started whisking. Man, this is boring I thought and decided to go whisk where I spend some of my finest moments - squatting on the kitchen floor.
See, while I whisked on the little buther’s table, I ran the risk of dropping the bowl on the floor. If I were to whisk on the floor, I couldn’t possibly drop the bowl, or even make a mess. And whisk I did.
Seeing no need to hold onto the bowl, I let it sit there. It was loaded with enough cupcake mix to stay in place, so I figured that it was OK to stop holding it.
Of course, there were still some pesky clumps of mix in the bowl (how am I supposed to know you’re supposed to use hot water to get the mix to separate properly?) so I decided to whisk faster. The increased speed of the whisking caused the bowl to rotate and the cake mix to centrifugally climb the walls of the bowl.
Mesmerised by my little science experiment, I decided to spin faster. The mix crept further up the sides.
Some sort of Victorian “higher, faster, stronger” feeling took hold of me and I spun that sucker as fast as it would go. All of the sudden, chocolate, no longer constrained by gravity, flew from the bowl.
I let go of the whisk and the bowl started to tetotter dangerously as it continued to spin and eject cake mix. I thought about grabbing the bowl, but the edges were sharp and I didn’t want to risk it. Besides, the clattering sound combined with the pretty designs of the splattered chocolate was delightful.
Eventually, the bowl settled down and stopped spinning. I picked it up and filled the tins. Everything was right with the world.
Until I looked at the clock and realized that I only had a half hour to remove an edible Jackson Pollack painting from the kitchen floor.
Fortunately, she called and said she was a little late getting out of the office, so I should be OK. Even if I missed a spot, I think I could get out of any trouble - I got sprinkles.