I love to bake.
I could spend all day in a quiet kitchen,
measuring, mixing, pouring, baking.
Working in the back of Sprinkles?
Super dream job.
Lately, I haven't had much time with the oven.
On top of that, all of my cookbooks are in storage.
So I have been turning to blogs for new recipes.
Some are awesome.
Some are a huge, giant, disastrous failure.
It is as if perhaps a few key steps or ingredients were
omitted from the post.
Like the mother in law who doesn't give
the full recipe to her daughter in law, so
mom's cooking will always be the best.
I had a recipe in my bookmark folder that was
calling out to me. It looked dark and different.
I was up for the challenge.
After buying new ingredients,
measuring, weighing, mixing, pouring, baking,
dreaming and imagining how wonderful it will taste,
then taking that first bite,
gagging, gagging, gagging,
then dumping everything in the trash.
This cake was not my friend.
I really, really wanted it to be.
It is friends with so many people.
Even Joy the Baker.
Who can do no wrong.
It however, had other plans.
I was not invited to the clique.
So I started over with cake mix and this doctoring up.
Thought it would be good with the frosting that was
meant for the thrown in the garbage cake.
Dumped that right on top of the failure.
Gagging, gagging, gagging.
Dark chocolate hot mess.
0% root beer taste.
Decided to make buttercream and
used root beer instead of milk.
Added root beer gummies on top so at least it looked cute.
Took it to the church picnic.
Did not win a prize.
But perhaps that is what I get for making a new recipe instead
of the trusty Toffee Crack.
(Which, by the way I have been off for a month.
So desperate for some sort of culinary success and in
need of a side dish, I tried this recipe.
My new favorite dip.
I am not even an olive girl.
Sort of hate them actually.
But in this bowl of awesomeness
I love them.
Plus, it is pretty and colorful.
The bowl was scraped clean.
The root beer fiasco was redeemed.
Thanks Marta for saving the day!