From a culinarilly challenged NYC intellectual
…You know I don’t cook, but under the circumstances, I offered to bake my mom’s signature applesauce cake. It was an unholy mess.
First, the eggs rolled off the counter onto the floor. Next, the flour and batter got all over me and the kitchen mat that already had eggs on it, so I had to do a laundry when I was done.
Finally, the fire alarm went off – I guess there was smoke.
The cakes seemed dry and something wrong, besides the fact that I can’t get them out of the pan…
