Weekends are fantastic. I mean it.
Whenever I get to Friday, I finally feel the weight of the week lifting, and a list of endless possibilities begins to unfurl in my mind.
There are so many fun things that can be done on the weekend: you can go camping, climb a mountain, feed your pet squirrel arsenic, play Frisbee, learn a foreign language, paint your face, wear camouflage and slink down the isles of your local Wal-Mart while loudly humming the Mission Impossible theme...
What I'm saying is that weekends are glorious, and filled with potential.
Which is why, Friday night, I found myself playing Madden in my living room...
Yeah, I know, it's sad, but I never get tired of absolutely demolishing the Patriots or the Steelers. It's therapeutic ya know?
My phone buzzed as I was on round two, alerting me that I had a text. It was my friend Courtney. She wanted to know what I was doing that night. I froze. Should I tell her the honest to God truth? Should I let her onto the fact that I'm a loser, and have literally no plans whatsoever...
Or do I make something up? Something important sounding...
I could say that I'm having drinks Brad Pitt tonight, or that I'm working on the screenplay for Star Wars 7, and that I have an urgent deadline to meet, or the producers will cut my funding...I could say that I'm going to a rave, 'cept there aren't any in Oshkosh...and I have no gas to go anywhere else.
Plus, if I tell her I'm busy, then she won't come hang out and I'll still be bored as hell...
I reluctantly opted to swallow my pride, and told her I wasn't doing anything.
"Do you want me to come over after work? I'm done around 4", was the reply.
I responded with an emphatic yes, and, several hours later, we found ourselves in my kitchen. Talking. We talked about life, boys, girls, first kisses, relationships, Christian culture, drinking and other topics I'm sure.
After our third shot of apple pie, I was struck with a brilliant idea!
"Do you wanna make a cake?"
So much for brilliant.
She decided to humor me, and went with it anyway. We began scouring the kitchen for the items we would need to accomplish this feat. I will tell you right off the bat that this is not a genuine baking story, as we were using a boxed cake mix from the store.
We quickly discovered that I was missing several key ingredients to make the frosting, so we texted our friend Sam, who had swimmers ear that night, and told her she should come over. Side note: Swimmers ear happens when you get water in your ear from swimming, showering and whatnot, then gets infected.
Apparently, it hurts like a bitch.
My logic, however, was that if Sam was going to be miserable, it is far better to be miserable with good friends who are making cake, than by oneself. Plus we needed vanilla extract and Crisco...
So Sam came over, by this time the cake was out of the oven and smelling fantastic! We still needed our butter cream frosting though. It was in that moment that Sam told me we would need to "beat" the frosting...and it was also in that moment that I realized that I don't have a beater in my home.
We didn't let this minor setback slow us down though, oh no! I cast my gaze about the kitchen, looking for some answer from God above that would help us conclude our adventure, and finish this sucker off.
My eyes fell upon the blender.
Oh yes friends. The blender.
The thing you make milkshakes and smoothies in.
Sam, gently informed me that this was a stupid idea. Apparently blenders aren't the tool of choice for making butter cream frosting...or any frosting for that matter. But, it was either that or eat plain chocolate cake, and I wasn't having any of that!
We threw in the powdered sugar, Crisco, vanilla extract and a touch of milk.
I wish I could say that it worked like a charm but...not so much. It took additional stirring sessions interspersed amongst our attempts at blending the mixture.
Mental note: get a beater for future baking endeavours...
I want to say, though, that the frosting turned out just as delicious as if we would've beat it. As we spread it over the cake's surface, bits of the cake top tore off, because it was still warm and soft, but we managed to cover the entire surface.
I cut it up, and Courtney and I went forks in. I showed my first two pieces no mercy.
As I savored the warm, spongy cake texture, coupled with the sugary, soft frosting, I felt my stomach murmuring it's approval. Hell, I'll probably have to walk to work tomorrow, but something that feels this right, can't be wrong!
My adventure last night, while unorthodox, gave me a crash course in what I now know as "The Law of Delicious." Simply put, the more time you put into your food, the tastier it will turn out.
The run time on this cake adventure when all was said and done: About 60 minutes.
Imagine what I could do with two hours...