I'll never forget Christmas at my sister's house this year (2008). Neither will she. Within 15 minutes of eachother she had managed to burn her hand on the element of the oven (impressive blistering), and I had sliced open my thumb with a brand new knife that I had bought her as a gift. (No screaming or panicking - I AM a farmer after all - and whatever stops me from working completely is the only thing I will go to outpatient for).
In any event, I knew the routine - keep the wound dry and tightly bound for days. But at heart, I'm a bit of a kid, in that what was missing from the equation was a lollypop - or maybe that groovy prescription you get when you go to a real doctor. This I had to provide for myself, and thus began my reluctant dependence on Bob (again) for what I craved: chocolate cake.
The mix made a batter that looked like real cake batter (unlike the "bread mix" from a few weeks ago).
I wasn't really prepared to make cake, having thrown out all the old cake pans and muffin tins, etc. that harbored microscopic amounts of flour from my wheat baking days. I did have disposable pie pans on hand, but no cooling racks, so I improvised.
Meet my new BFF, he's tasty, this could be a great and long-lasting relationship. I'd have made my own frosting, but the cut in my thumb hurt fierce (nerves firing) and I needed to give it a rest.
It looks like real cake.
It tastes like real cake. A winner! Chocolatey, fudgy, and it made me forget about my thumb for a while.
