AHHH. I think I know why Julia Childs has a little nip here and there while cooking. I'm good with cooking. Baking is another story. I don't have the patience for it. And I don't really like following rules, which is imperative in baking. I've spent the last few hours trying to make the very stunning (in the photo in the Bon Appetit cookbook) mocha raspberry trifle for Christmas Day. This involves making sponge cake from scratch. This could push some people to drink. Including me. Every year I swear I will just go plead with Judd my favorite downtown Baker's Peel baker to make me the sponge cake. But I don't. And every year, I give myself an ulcer trying to make the sponge cake. You see, you have to make the egg yolk, butter, sugar, flour part and then the egg white part. Then you are supposed to "gently" fold the two together. Let me tell you, there's nothing gentle about trying to fold something that has the consistency of putty with light, whipped egg whites.
And now to add to my stress, our first guests have arrived 45 minutes early. I have egg in my hair. Butter on my face. And nothing to wear!!! Ahh, more wine I suppose