I love baking. Really, I do. Cooking…eh, the jury’s still out on that one. Baking, however, puts me in a state of ecstasy obtained by
nothing very little else. I have a favorite cooking/baking website that I attend on a regular basis, and if you watch me looking through this website at the recipes this woman gives, you’d think I was privy to a ‘firemen gone wild’ site.
I have just one teensy little problem- I live way out in the country; I’m at least 30 minutes from any respectable grocery store (out here, grocery stores come connected to our gas stations). So, when I’m ogling these recipes, getting excited with visions of friends coming out for a weekend party with a
planned spur-of-the-moment menu of chocolate souffle, sweet corn spoonbread, and tortilla de patatas, my entire demeanor deflates when I realize I’m missing crucial ingredients. Like, flour. Or chocolate. And I can’t just make a ‘quick’ run to the store to pick up what I’m missing. So, I usually just shake my fist at my cupboard (“damn you!”) and make nothing.
The one ingredient I never run out of is eggs (except when the ladies are on strike due to some unforgivable act, such as going two days without letting them out of their run). And for that matter, chicken.