Writing about both my friends’ culinary talents, as well as their mishaps, has been at the forefront of my mind as of late. Particularly noteworthy was Heather’s incident with a chiffon cake last week, which I have been pondering till this very moment. Heather is a dear friend, perhaps because we both are graduate students at the same university, have daughters the same age (who also happen to be good friends), love exploring wine, and adore sharing food with each other. Though our culinary backgrounds differ somewhat—recall that I am a recovering vegan who is only beginning to explore meat, while Heather swoons over visions of succulent roasts—our individual escapades with food tend to complement the other’s.
Over the past few months, Heather has been wildly romanticizing chiffon cakes. Though I concur that a well-made chiffon cake is indeed delicious, I am at a loss when it comes to understanding her current obsession over them. Regardless, I felt nothing but the utmost empathy when I received her heartbreaking email (complete with photos) about how her beautiful cake, which was to be a gift to her ill mother, crumpled upon falling out of its nonstick pan. The disappointment, the despair!
Because I’m such a good friend, I tried to console her—“You could make a trifle or a bread pudding, and no one will ever know!”—but my efforts were made only half-heartedly, for I knew that it truly was a travesty of an event. However, Heather is a true warrior and in the spirit of never accepting defeat, she left work early and made another chiffon cake. This time, however, she was careful not to be silly enough to drop it on the floor.
The subsequent email, also complete with photos, simply stated, “After taste testing to an audience of 8, we determined the lemon chiffon cake was a success!” And there you have it.
No comments:
Post a Comment