Tonight I ruined dessert. I am a pretty good cook, so usually things don't go awry that often. But tonight things were wry. Very wry. So wry, in fact, that I actually shed tears and came very close to throwing an entire Pyrex mixing bowl of whipped cream across the room. Fortunately, Big Daddy stopped me. But I'm getting head of myself...
I made Moon Cake. Moon Cake is delicious. And easy. And fattening (which is proof that it is delicious), and it is Big Daddy's favorite dessert. I was excited to make it for him. Then for some reason, I couldn't find the recipe. So I looked one up online. It appeared to be the same. I proceeded. But the eclair crust batter didn't look right while I was mixing it. That should have been a sign right there that something was wrong. But I carried on, and, after baking, it turned out flat and unattractive. Next came the pudding disaster. The middle layer calls for two 3.4oz packages of instant vanilla pudding mixed with one 8oz cream cheese, softened extensively. I softened it, pre-beat it to make sure it was truly smooth and not lumpy (lumpy will ruin Moon Cake), and then got out the pudding mix to add in. This is when I realized my main problem. Well, problemS. First of all, I bought a 5.1oz size of vanilla pudding and a 4.8 oz size. (Different brands are slightly different in size, it appears. Who knew?). I figured I could weigh out some of one package and add it to the other to get the right amount. But more importantly, I bought one instant and one Cook and Serve. Crappity! I didn't have time to cook and chill it, as I was already running about 1/2 hour behind schedule. So I used the 5.1 oz instant and added just enough of the cook and serve to make it 6.8oz total. I figured that little wouldn't hurt. WRONG. It did hurt. First of all, it wouldn't thicken as I beat it. Next, because it wouldn't thicken, the cream cheese wouldn't blend in. So despite my careful efforts at softening and pre-beating, little chunks of cream cheese floated at the top of the pudding soup no matter how long I mixed it. I hoped that it would thicken as it set, so I poured it over the flat, ugly crust and put it in the fridge. However, 20 minutes later, it was still pudding soup. LUMPY pudding soup. Lumpy pudding soup on top of a flat, unattractive crust. The whipped cream, which goes on top and should be covered in marbled chocolate sauce, turned out fine. But at this point I was so frustrated, and so late for dinner, that I figured the only logical thing to do with the perfectly good whipped cream was to chuck it at the wall.
And this is where Big Daddy stepped in and saved the day (and my small mixing bowl). He uttered the three most important words that a woman can hear during a baking crisis. Words that aren't spoken often around here, because it just isn't our style, but which, at the right time, with one person's hand laid on the other one's hand, can be the most wonderful words on earth: "Let's buy dessert."
And that is how we ended up 45 minutes late to dinner with store-bought cheesecake.
And that is why Father's Day 2010 will always be rememberd as the day that Mommy didn't end up being committed to the insane asylum for dairy-related assult. Gotta love that man of mine.