This year, I'm thankful I wasn't in charge of Thanksgiving dinner. All I did was take on Dessert, and that responsibility alone was enough to throw me into a complete dither.
Let me preface this by saying that even by today's lofty home-cooking standards, I'm a pretty decent baker. I know what I'm about, I know the science, the tricks, the shortcuts. And I didn't choose to bake anything particularly ambitious; I was reasonable. I decided to make 4 things - a chess pie (date/raisin/nut/bourbon/delish), apple cake, pumpkin cheesecake, and chocolate cupcakes (some kids will be there).
Monday: made a comprehensive list for all 4 recipes and went to do shopping early. Get to store, check purse, buggery! Left wallet at home. Thank lucky stars I didn't have a trolleyful of groceries yet. Ran home to fetch it, drove back, figuring "that'll be my hitch in this program. I'm done with errata now -- yay for me!" Enjoyed free samples of cider and beef nachos (?) with other, equally smug early shoppers.
Tuesday: cupcake recipe says bake *at least* 1 day in advance, so figure I can knock this one out early. Pull out hand mixer, and can't find the beaters. Search in vain for 10 minutes, then decide to head back out to Target and buy a new mixer. A peppy little number is on sale for $17.99 - great. Come home and WHOA has this thing got a great motor! I'm so excited, I test out all the speeds. As a result, the cupcake batter get some extra air whipped in, but I figure it'll just make 'em fluffier, like molten chocolate cakes. The cupcakes come out of the oven beautifully, but when I walk past an hour later? pffffft. All deflated in the middle. Frosting won't cover it. Possibly my cupcakes have a future as chocolate bread pudding, but that's it.
Wednesday: start off the morning making the apple cake. Not enough vanilla. How can this be? But wait, when I made my list, there were two bottles in the cabinet! I don't have to run out again first thing on my Big Baking Day! Triumphantly pull out 2nd bottle -- you guessed it -- drip drip drip. Virtually empty. Make mental note to speak to the Help. Pull on coat, back to the market I go.
Next up is cheesecake, so mix up the gingersnap crust. But when I try to put it in the pan, I can't get the springform to snap close. Hmm. Maybe the counter isn't level. Try it on the floor. No good, bottom keeps popping up. Try it on the table -- bottom pops up and smacks me in the nose.
I attempt to close this thing for seriously 10 minutes, look it up on the web, you name it. Nothing. Bloody bugger won't budge, no matter what bizzare contortions of pressure I put on it. Set the cheesecake crust aside, and start the pies. Realize I'd left all the butter out to soften for baking, but you need ice cold butter for pie crust. Surely there's still some in the fridge somewhere...but no. Put a couple sticks (and marble rolling pin) in freezer and fix myself a cocktail, seeing as how the bourbon's right there out on the counter for the chess pie. (Mind you, it's 11:30 a.m., and I've only eaten a spoonful of apple cake batter.)
After an hour of bourbon and cokes and some internetting, head back to do the pie crust. Change mind and try the springform pan again, with similar results as above. Decide to go buy new springform pan. Realize I'm too buzzed to drive so instead, back to pie crust. That goes fine, it chills for an hour (more drinks, eat some beans and toast) and go back to roll it out. Immediately drop marble rolling pin on 2nd left toe which literally spurts blood across kitchen floor. Hobble to bathroom to bandage it, trailing blood behind me, and no band-aids. (Aren't I supposed to be some sort of future healthcare professional?) Toe throbbing, looks pretty grim. Determine yeah, that nail's gonna come off painfully in a week or two. Wad some T.P. around it, pop an ibuprofen, wash it down with dregs of oh, conservatively? my 4th bourbon and tromp back to that crust, undeterred. ( I must say it came out beautifully in the end.)
Realize pain has sobered me up enough to drive, so go get new springform. Score - only one left on sale and it's a mere $8. Kitchen store employees a little alarmed at my exuberant reaction to first triumph of the day. Belligerently advise them to man up -- it's only the day before Thanksgiving. You're gonna see worse than me rolling in here come Hannukah and Christmastime.
Back home, cheesecake glides out of oven, top unsplit. Pies look gorgeous, realize apple cake crust has carmelized once it *cools down* you idiot (didn't I say I *knew* the science?) and decide chocolate bread pudding will be just fine, thank you very much. Stay tuned however, there may be an hilarious postscript to report: I still have to transport everything over to Justin's.
