I really do like to bake...

I. Am. Ashamed….. I started this blog months ago in attempts to have a “hobby” outside my day job. I figured, I’d try and regulary entertain my joy of baking by creating masterful recipes (oooohhhh wait, I’m not a professional chef… forgot) and posting photos and comments on the recipes. Wellllll, cut to today, and I somehow seem to have broken my camera (can’t remember how or when, but pressing the ‘power’ button, seems to send the lens into a manically bipolar state, where it just keeps frantically zooming in and out). Sooooo, ok, the pics of my non-existent recipes will have to wait..

So here’s the next kicker…. I would absolutely LOVE to do some cookin’ Jaques Pepin style, but I am what is commonly referred to as: “broke as a joke” so buying valrhona… or even hershey’s chocolate is going to have to wait a few more days. Normally, as most of my close acquaintances can attest to, I have no problem scrounging up a few billzZzZZZzz if it means I get to make a huge red velvet cake, frosted within an inch of it’s life with cream cheese frosting (and a bottle of pinot for washing it all down with…) BUT, I leave for vacation in Miami in a few days and lets face it, there are a couple major issues at hand:

1. ‘My save money for Miami’ scheme went straight to Jessica Simpson gladiator pumps, bikinis (which are technically for Miami so sorry I’m not sorry) and, the Burren- an Irish pub down the street from my apartment that frequently seduces my roommate and I with it’s fiddle players, blue moons, and it’s general convenience in proximity. So, I am actually a little (….…a lot) behind on expenses for the month and if I want to enjoy the occasional pina colada on the beach, I’m gonna need to tighten the ol’ belt buckle and hunker down with the spending.
2. Well, the thing is, the whole ‘eat spinach and NOTHING ELSE until miami’ scheme never even made it off the ground; bless it’s heart. The idea entered my mindset the day I booked my flights. I even asked my sister and colleagues to support me in my efforts and slap any food “that is not spinach or water or laxatives” out of my hand… then 11:45 am rolled around and, alas, my pining for a colossal turkey sandwich became a reality and I never looked back… What I am trying to say is, my beach bod is somewhat unforgiveable and there is no discernable waist on my-person sooo baking a peanut butter cream pie (just saw a recipe for it on the food network this past weekend… and OH. MY. GOD.) should simply stay out of the cards before I am rolled onto the beach and mistaken for an orca.

I hereby promise, however, that I will be posting again in the very near future (aka when I am back from Miami and the sun poisoning, which is imminent, has worn off) and I will be including a recipe or two in my next rant… I cannot promise that extreme frustration over the results not looking exactly like Giada’s, won’t rear it’s fateful head, but that’s a risk we’re all just going to have to take.