Welcome to the Kitchen!

After Monday's baking fiasco, I took a break from my kitchen. Enjoy this photo/proof of my non-muffins. Yes, that is my pot of failure rice back there.

I went out to eat Tuesday and Wednesday night, something that is rarely seen in these parts. My eating out, that is. Last night, the kitchen and I rekindled our romance via porkchops brought to you by the New York Times. They were delicious and I highly recommend them.

Now, Tuesday night, OfficeMate and I were welcomed home by the sight of two boxes in front of our door. They were addressed to me, with no information regarding who possibly could have sent them. After Nancy Drewing the situation for a few hours, I deduced that they were from family friends. The boxes contained a massive crockpot and a super sexy hand mixer.

As a result, I would like to offer a warm welcome to my various new small kitchen appliances, both the ones that joined this week, and others that joined over Christmas.

Immersion Blender
This was a biggie on my Christmas wish list. He was a gift from my brother and, amusingly enough, I gifted him the same make&model. Mine came with a variety of fun attachments that includes a mini-food-processor type thing. It has proven most useful for making emergency breadcrumbs. The blender has been used for large amounts of various soups. Win. Also, not to be forgotten, although not new, my electric kettle that you can see in the background also holds a very special place in my heart. He is used CONSTANTLY, comforting me with tea and waking me up with coffee on a daily basis.



Mandolin Slicer
This bad boy assisted me in my potatoes au gratin endeavor, and you know what? They were delicious. Also a Christmas gift, he has the ability to slice things the same width, and mine even has the capacity to handle julienne strips! Fancy!



Crock Pot
Four quarts. FOUR. Seen cooking in there is my Adobo Chicken that will be ready for dinner this evening, circa 9pm, probably with rice, if I can get over my scarring rice experience from Monday. I can't get over the size and sexiness of this crock pot. It even locks, so I can bring it with me without spilling things. Brilliant! I'm going to be getting my slow cooker ON these next few weeks.


Hand Mixer
We eat a lot of potatoes. Generally as a result of my making a ton of homefries on the weekends. I've made mashed potatoes a few times but get discouraged when I have to mash them with two small forks. Now, I can mash 'em with a hand mixer! Also, I intend on using him to conquer my fear of baking. I have a carrot cake recipe lined up, and together, the hand mixer and I will defeat baking!

Also, I bought an iPhone. Irresponsible spending? I like to think not. I budgeted for it! Get stoked for a comparison update of old phone vs. new phone when it comes in. I fear old phone won't stand a chance.

Baking

Baking can go straight to hell.
I've always hated baking, but it's also always bugged me that I can never seem to get it just so.

I don't mean boxed cakes and brownies because, not to brag, but I make a mean funfetti cake. I mean baking from scratch, like my mom's Christmas cake or my neighbor's homemade fudge. I just... I can't do it. I've tried and tried but it's always in vain.

In sixth grade, I told myself I would be the queen of shortbread. I made batch after batch for these "market" things we had in math class (to learn how to use money, if I remember correctly), and everyone told me they were great. I liked the compliments, like any insecure 12 year-old, but deep down I knew they were lies. My shortbread was too crumbly. My parents bought margarine instead of butter, ruining the entire concept of shortbread. I knew I could do better.

In high school, I set out to make the ultimate oatmeal raisin cookies. However, my recipes only came from allrecipes.com, the Better Homes and Garden cookbook, and the Joy of Cooking. I never sought to tweak these, I just rotated through the three, hoping by some miracle, that the ultimate chewy raisiny goodness would just happen. Of course, it never did. I got batch after batch of dried out, crumbly, bland starch. Once again, my deflated ego and I stepped away from the baking world.

College came, and I was determined to bake properly, but laziness generally won out and boxed cakes reigned supreme. One miraculous day my senior year, I realized I had let a big bag of apples get unattractively squishy and decided to try my hand at baking again. I made apple muffins, and they were delicious. However, I wrote the recipe on a post it that I promptly threw away.

Fast forward to current day. There was one apple in the fridge that I had forgotten about for approximately two weeks. I bought two more apples at Kroger with the intention of making apple muffins - if I was able to make them once, I could do this again. I got home from a very "meh" day at work feeling all sorts of the Mondays and I knew that a successful baking experience was just what I needed to cheer myself up.

The recipe I found claimed these were simple muffins. All the reviews were positive. They didn't take too many ingredients. All signs pointed to "YOU CAN'T MESS THIS UP!" I put on my apron for fear of getting my yoga pants dirty (right?), and got to work. I remember thinking the consistency looked off. I remember thinking there were too many apples. I remember thinking 350 seemed way low for the oven. I also remember thinking, "I own one muffin tin with space for six muffins. This is going to take forever." But I shrugged, excited for my perfect muffins, and introduced the filled muffin tin to his new friend, preheated oven.

As this is happening, I start dinner. Black beans and rice; a latino no-brainer. I can do this with my eyes closed, in my sleep, hands tied behind my back.

25 minutes later, my muffins didn't look like the ones in the picture. They were, in fact, underdone and horribly lumpy. I put them in for longer and kept checking. By the time we reached like 40 minutes, I butter&floured my loaf pan and threw the rest of the batter in.

By this point, I've become so distraught and distracted with my damn muffins-turned-loaf that I've messed up my rice. I messed up my rice. I'm so ashamed.

Right now, I'm waiting on my non-bread-looking-loaf-thing to finish in the oven. I have six sad looking we-wanted-to-be-muffins-but-we're-just-lumpy-apple-things on my counter. I'm eating my overly-sticky-yet-burned-on-the-bottom rice and beans, and weighing the pros and cons of wine vs. chocolate milk.

Baking can go straight to hell. I'll stick to cooking.