I tell people I can’t cook but I can bake but the truth is I can’t do either very well. Without a recipe I am completely lost, and you have food poisoning.
This week I made banana bread.
Last week I made banana bread’s old, crusty, deformed uncle.
I just googled ‘banana bread’ like any other top of the line pastry chef would do, found the recipe, got out the ingredients, and went to town. I made it in the breadmaker last week because I thought the breadmaker was supposed to be a no-brainer. Put the ingredients in the basket, put the basket in the breadmaker and press a button, twinkle-twinkle -little-star plays (japanese breadmaker) then I’m off to the living room couch to watch some Boardwalk Empire.
Half an hour into the baking process I smelled the burning smell coming from the kitchen. Smoke was coming out of the breadmaker.
The little window on top of the breadmaker reveals that the ingredients have turned into some kind of banana lava that has escaped the basket, overflowing into the bottom of the machine where it is starting a small fire.
He waits until it’s finished “baking”, opens it up, reaches in and pulls out a small piece of bread from the basket that is unscathed. With smoke still rising from the bread maker behind him and a mouthful of the disaster he says “This is the best banana bread you have ever made”.