That's the Way the Muffin Crumbles...

"Gonna bring this tonight," I texted.
Bridge and I don't need NINE servings."

Baking is something I do when I feel happy and energetic.  I'm sorry to say I haven't done much of anything in the kitchen lately.  Yesterday was a turning point for me, though, and I wanted to celebrate by baking for my boy and my friends.  

I pulled a Pillsbury mix from the cupboard, and snapped a picture of it to text to my friend.  I wasn't up for any "made from scratch" baking, but I could certainly handle a mix, and who wouldn't want to have something that looked so scrumptious! We were having our book club meeting, and I told my friend I'd be bringing THIS to our meeting. 

I got busy baking, and right away, something didn't look right. For one thing, the batter was so runny.  I double-checked the box.  OH, this was a nine-serving cake, not twelve, like I normally do.  Maybe that's why it seemed to be such a small amount. I poured it into the cake pans, and hoped for the best.

The smell of autumn spices wafted through the kitchen when I opened the oven door to take a peek, but my heart sank.  There was no magic taking place inside those cake pans; the batter was as flat as when I put them in the oven. And then it hit me.  I hadn't added any eggs.

As soon as I pulled the pathetic looking wafers of cake from the oven, I got busy whipping up another mix.  My good mood was dissipating.  I wasn't feeling like baking TWO snacks, but I'd offered to bring something,  so I threw 24 mini pumpkin muffins into the oven, fingers crossed.

They were darling, and smelled so good.  And the little buggers wouldn't come out of the pan without a fight. I did not come off conqueror; the pan won.  I now had the remains of two dozen muffins all over the cooling rack, and two very thin cake layers.  Here's how my mind works:  if you add two mediocre desserts, you might get one decent result.

So I crumbled several of the muffins even more, and topped one of the cakes.  I drizzled a packet of cream cheese frosting over that, and then plopped the other sad looking cake layer on top of it all.  I spread the other frosting packet on top, drizzled the caramel provided, and sprinkled the almonds for the piéce de resistance.  Hmmm...not bad.

I know; it looks NOTHING like my promised text message picture, but it was better than nothing. There are foodies who believe presentation is everything.  I am of the opinion that if it tastes good, that's all that really matters. And the pumpkin cake TASTED good.  What's not to like?  Pumpkin, cinnamon, cream cheese frosting, drizzled caramel sauce, and almonds?Autumnal perfection!

When we gathered for our book club meeting,  Erin told them I brought a homemade cake for our dessert.  "Home-BAKED," I corrected her.  The girls oohed and ahed politely. 

"There's such a thing as home-baked?" Sharon asked.  We all laughed.  Sharon likes ready-made desserts from the store.

We laughed and laughed last night, over anything and everything, the way women do when things get giddy.  Erin always likes to start our meeting with a centering exercise, setting the mood for a productive learning experience.  I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop giggling.  We finally dispensed with a formal centering, agreeing that the positive energy in the room was conducive enough for us to begin.

I was starting to feel like my old self.  Laughter and good food is so good for the soul.  Surrounding myself with these wise, funny women, and eating pumpkin cake was such a great way to end a very good day.

Life Is Better When You're Laughing

Welcome to my kitchen. It's five A.M. during another autumn's morning, and music is softly playing in the background. The house is scented with spicy candles, and Amish Friendship Bread is baking in the oven. The scene, so domestic and heart-warming. It's like something out of a Dickens novel.

Oh, but not a half hour before! At that point, I was in the middle of a big mess, listening to the New Age music station on TV. I was sweeping up 5 pounds of flour to a tune that sounded uncannily like Tubular Bells (that would be the theme song from The Excorcist, in case you didn't know), and I was wondering why the dough was so dry. It didn't take long to figure out that I had forgotten to add the wet ingredients to the sour dough starter.

These are the moments I wonder WHY I ever set foot in the kitchen in the first place. Surely, I'm not alone here. Who hasn't forgotten to secure the lid on the Vitamix, only to see a volcano spew out of the top all over the cabinets? Who hasn't spilled copious amounts of sticky liquids all over the counters and floor? Who hasn't had too much liquid in the Kitchenaid, and watched it slosh over the edges, only to realize you've created your personal version of The Great Flood right in your own kitchen?  Who hasn't dumped a gigantic bag of cereal all over the floor? Who hasn't invited the dog inside to clean up said cereal? Okay, that last one might just be me, but I'll bet I have some of you commiserating with me on a couple of kitchen catastrophes.

Modern conveniences are supposed to make life easier, but sometimes they get me in trouble. The power of a Vitamix...the churning of the Norwalk juicer...the mixing of the Kitchenaid...all of these have lead to some terribly disgusting messes. Sometimes an appliance doesn't even need to have a high-powered motor in it to cause problems. Take my little Tupperware chopper, for example.

Tupperware brand products are something I've only received as gifts. I'm too much of a tightwad to invest in something so fancy as Tupperware, but I can certainly appreciate its quality. 

About 27 years ago, friends at school gave me a Tupperware bridal shower, and then a couple of years ago, my son, who is in his mother-in-law's downline as a Tupperware "consultant," gave me several wonderful items for Christmas. My favorite thing is the big bowl (the Thatsa Mega Bowl). I use it for my homemade roll dough. It's the only bowl big enough for my huge recipe that calls for over 14 cups of flour. My other little treasure is a food chopper.

Today I was using my Tupperware "Chop 'N' Prep Chef."  Have you seen one of these?  It has a pull-string mechanism similar to a lawn mower starter that spins three chopping blades inside of a clear plastic bowl. It was doing a beautiful job of chopping a variety of vegetables for our quiche. I was just thinking to myself how I love that little gadget, when all hell broke loose. I picked it up by the lid and spun around to show my son how cool of a contraption it is, when the cup fell from the lid, spewing its contents all over the wooden floor and the rug in front of the sink.

Sometimes I hate myself in the kitchen," is what I remember saying to him, as he watched, dumbfounded from his perch at the kitchen counter. First, I took a picture of the mess, and then I began the laborious task of picking up all of the little shreds of veggies off of the floor.

At times like these, I feel like I'm Paula Deen and "I Love Lucy," rolled into one not-so-funny, and oh-so-messy, episode.

Below is a clip from one Oprah Winfrey episode I was so glad I watched. Paula Deen was "in the house," whipping up a recipe, when she did something that endeared her to me. Take a peek. Within the first 45 seconds, you'll see I can totally relate to her in this situation:

Life is definitely better when you're laughing!