On my day off, I love to cook and bake. Oh, the joy of taking the miscellanious out of my fridge and turning into a lemon meringue pie, back-ass-wards Pad Thai, zesty Korean flank steak…. pancakes. Today was no exception. I pinched a nerve… while waking up this morning… so the gym was outta the question. But I will be DAMNED if I don’t get to play in some manner after an eight-day stretch of work. Last Monday, I made a batch of basil lemon pistaccio cookies for a wino party I attended. My cookies were a savory take on what the USA has come to associate with the word “cookie”. I cut the sugar in half and relied more upon the natural sugars of the lemon with the intention of turning the baked good into a healthy after dinner option.
Angry Pistaccios
This wasn’t really the best idea.
Today’s model followed the recipe to the T. Ehhh, that’s a lie. I followed the steps but after leaving the butter out on the counter to become “room temperature”, I kinda just skimmed everything else. Additionally, since I just bought the Iphone for myself, I’ve become absolutely obsessed with documenting everything I do: Trips to flower shops, vain mirror photos… spoons on the sidewalk. So, I was taking photos of my silly cooking afternoon and naturally, since I wasn’t pay attention to the actual act of baking, I made a few mistakes.
For tonight, I bake.
Like spilling 3/4s of a cup of sugar all over my baby laptop computer. My kitchen is currently full of computers. The one I’m typing on, the one I’m spilling on and the one that’s playing music: The Iphone. The baby got it full in the face as I was trying to open a brand new box of store brand sugar. Store brand anything is usually packaged by the cheapest means possible, rendering it a messy challenge to open. Today’s example was no different. As I was cutting out a nice hole for the sugar to flow from as opposed to using their “for your convenience” pouring spout, everything spiraled out of control. My scissors slipped and the sugar box slid out from my hand and onto the computer… white granules happily escaped their cardboard prison freely onto my baby laptop. The words I expressed upon this unexpected escape were not righteous to say the least.
Baking came to a stand still as I tried to pound the sugar out of my computer first all over the floor – dumb! – then over the sink. If you’ve never spanked your computer, I can’t say I necessarily recommend it, but I’m sure I was a real scene for the comedic. I got out maybe 2/3s of the sugar but I know for a fact, a least 1 tablespoon ain’t goin’ anywhere. ENTER and W don’t work correctly at the moment. I’ve been blowing and blowing to try and get the grit outta the keys, but um… it’s like sand, damn stuff gets everywhere. 
Whatever. FML. I went to open the bottle of rose’ cava that I bought spur of the moment. I wasn’t about to pay $$$ for bubbles just for myself. Besides, I’d spent a little coin on the pretty flower arrangement sitting on my kitchen table. So, the bottle I bought wasn’t chilled yet. I threw the thing into an ice bath when I came home from grocery shopping for about ten minutes prior to baking/enjoying. After getting sugar everywhere, I deemed that moment a perfect time for an Intermission. Bubbles!!!
Bubbles to the face
Do you know how many bottles of sparkling wine I have opened at work and for pleasure? I couldn’t even guess. Not a clue. So when I tell you that I gave the Cava an ice bath, please understand that I knew dropping the temp of the pressurized liquid wasn’t the most savory option, but it had to be done. Um, upon twisting the cage, I immediately regretted that damn ice bath. Bubbles were everywhere! My floor, my hand, the sink of courses and on the coffee maker… somehow. Pink everywhere. And not even GOOD pink, just pink.
So, I got to clean up a second mess. I think maybe I should stop baking. I love it SO much, but I get very very distracted. I forget to put something in my batter, I read the wrong measurement. Por examplo: 1 TLSP lemon juice became 1/3c and 1/3c chopped basil became 1 TBSP. Can I have adderoll for cooking/baking purposed exclusively? Is there a prescription for that?
Oh well. My cookies rock. The floor got a cleaning. Nick isn’t mad about the dumb baby computer since he got a stupid MacBook Air from his company and I’m still smiling. Now if only I could fix this pinched nerve…
I supoose I ought to either invent or purchase something to safely hold my laptops over my counters for when I can’t remember a recipe and I need to reference online materials. This constant spilling of ingredients has just got to stop. Any suggestions? I’ll be num-num’ing on a batter-laden beater until you call…. yummmmmmmy!
Lersif 