Cassie is a dear friend of mine who sends me emails, from time to time. If you want to can read her actual stories, visit her at l!mp The Official Website Of RMITs Creative Writing Students.
On 03/06/2009, at 3:29 PM, Crassie wrote:
So.
Monday night was...
ROAST NIGHT!
So I thought I would enhance festivities by cooking this:
However... events unfolded as such:
Dates boiled over.
Astris creaming... LOL
No electric mixer... mmmm
No scales to measure quantities...
Astrid in a helmet.
It'll still work!
No dish, have to use cake tin. Okaaaaay, still might work!?
Come on lil' fella! You can do it!
Okay, so maybe not.
Now for butterscotch...
It's getting there!... .... Fuck.
Le product finale.
Maybe it is mostly a little under cooked, and it was in the oven for an hour. And rose like 10cm... Whatever, I will still serve this fucker.
I died. Like, not in the good way like when I'm eating roast lamb.
How do you feel Astrid?
Sucky. Date. Pudding.
The worst part? I tried REALLY HARD.
From Crapssie.
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A Sticky Date
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6 comments:
That's a relief ... from the drawing on the recipe I thought she was cooking sticky dog pudding.
Oh dear!
Ah well. At least you tried.
All I can cook is shortbread and quiche..
quiche is tricky, are you kidding!
I was there! I ate the pudding! First bite was like cemented sweetness, then it sat in my stomach like a big sticky brick til it dropped out.
But it was made with so much love that i devoured the whole thing so that my heart swelled and swelled with mama cass' blood and sweat and tears. Now we're the same person.
I gleefully broke veganism for that roast, and I smoked inside. What a night!
wow wren, that is huge!
little wren totally took a huge bullet. A date bullet.
A bullet in the date?
Gross. What?
Who are you?
Where are we?
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