Anyway, since I've moved into my apartment, I very rarely cook or bake unless company is coming over because like I said, people seem to assume that I am a marvelous cook. I have no idea why people have this idea. I invite them over, and they say, "I'm so excited! You're such a great cook!"
Meanwhile, I'm thinking, "Dadgummit," and reaching for my cell phone to hit speed dial #4 (Home) and say, "Mama, help!!! Eight people are coming over to my apartment, and they expect awesome dinner! What the heck do I do?"
And thus the conversation begins: "Well you could _______"
My reply: "But is that easy?"
"Well you could _______"
"But is that easy enough?"
"Or _________"
"That sounds like a lot of really complicated steps, Mom."
Sometimes, Dad takes over:
"Ashley, you're 21 years old, and you have a bachelor's degree in mathematics, I think you can figure out how to follow a recipe!"
"I dunno, Dad."
Seriously, people, cooking terrifies me. I don't know why. It's irrational, I know.
However, I have mastered the art of scrambled eggs and box mixes, and all things you dump together in a pot on a stove (taco soup, for example, okay well that's the only thing I've done so far, and I called Mom like 50 million times for reassurance and instructions).
Side story: The same time I made taco soup, I also had to bake something.
"Nonsense, Ashley! You don't have to bake anything. You're just being an overachiever."
I say, "No! You don't understand!"
You see, I had just started grad school, and I was getting to know my fellow TAs, and I mentioned that I had just moved into an apartment by myself and that I had lots of fun decorating (which I did, and maybe I'll post pics later). Somehow, this statement combined with the fact that I said I love food led to the inevitable assumption.
Ashley is Betty Crocker, of course. They even suggested that I own a bakery someday because they all (all eight of them) thought I would be a really good baker.
Yes, of course. I can hang my diplomas above the counter, and say, "You can do anything with a math degree!" Lies, I tell you! LIES!
Sorry, I might be a little bitter about having to go to grad school.
So anyway, I found myself standing in the grocery store, looking at Southern living magazines, and I found a picture of these:
They are cakes, shaped like pumpkins!
With vanilla glaze and caramel stems!
I made them for the TAs!
I also had caramel chocolate thumbprint cookies (Betty Crocker mix, of course).
Of course, I made the taco soup, too.
And cornbread (Jiffy box mix).
They loved all of it, and now they are completely convinced I should own a bakery.
Of course, I guess they didn't realize that even the cakes were made from a box mix, and that I still called my mom multiple times about the soup, and for the pumpkins, I even called my aunt.
My aunt is Betty Crocker. Seriously, she actually bakes things from scratch all the time. She bakes things that are so good that every time I take a bite, I say, "I bet these'll be in Heaven."
Also, her favorite cookbook is the Betty Crocker cookbook, not the Betty Crocker box mix aisle.
Where was I? Oh, right that was the side story. The main story (ha!) is much shorter. Today, I needed to bake something to take to my Bible study group tonight, so I called Mom, had the above conversation, and she told me all about the wonderful world of Dump Cake!
Dump cake is my new favorite thing to make. I used spice cake, 2 sticks of melted butter, and apples. My apartment smells like Heaven, anyways I imagine Heaven would smell this heavenly.
It looks like this!
Notice my cupcake cookie jar in the background. The smaller one is a scrubbie-hold
er. See, I’ll show you.
See! It’s a scrubbie-holder!
Oh, and look! This cupcake is my cupcake timer, which I used to time how long to bake the dump cake.
I got it as a present from one of the Bunko ladies. That’s right. I said Bunko. That’s another story for another day.
Gee, I can’t imagine why people would think I’m a baker.
Maybe I should quit grad school to open a bakery.
Did I mention I don’t like to eat cupcakes?
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