I know what you're thinking: "How dare she start with clickbait in the title! First it was the youtubers, now it's the bloggers?!?! Outrageous!"
Really, though. I mean it. I didn't screw up. It's hard to believe, so I took pictures.
It started off with realizing that if I didn't get off the computer soon, I was about to get yelled at. So, in order to prevent Disaster, I went and did the work before It could occur.
I had midterms last week, which resulted in a four day break to relax and remember that nothing actually matters. (That's what breaks are meant for. To pretend you didn't have a mental breakdown in the middle of the week because Chemistry has taken over your life to the point that you dream about it.)
During that four-day break, instead of mourning grades, I decided to be productive and bake. And Fruit Tart it was.
The significance of Fruit Tart is that no one has objections to it. (Besides my older brother, but nobody asked him.) It isn't too sweet, isn't too bland, so the kids and adults make peace with each other over one dessert. Fruit Tart.
It's pure, smells great, brings together the family. Take that, Sara Lee. I'm pretty sure you guys don't even sell Frozen Fruit Tarts. *
Initially, while one searches for Fruit Tart recipes on the internet, they may say something like, "Oh, look at this! A ten-minute tart! Perfect for my busy schedule!"
And that may be true, too, until you open up the recipe and realize that the only reason it takes ten minutes is because all the ingredients are store bought by the baker and they simply spend ten minutes decorating the damn thing.
Now, I have nothing against pre-made items. They make life simple. The profit gives money to the people who are running a business on pre-made crusts. It makes the world spin a little faster.
Except I had to make everything. The crust I usually make by myself anyways, but for pudding I make exceptions. So, for the first time in my life, I made homemade pudding. It made me feel like I was in the nineteenth century, churning corn starch and egg whites, but it wasn't bad, I mean.
So, when I saw recipes for "Ten-Minute Fruit Tarts," you may understand, I was not amused. That thing took me two hours.
(Side note: It takes me forever to bake stuff. Whenever I see a recipe that says something like, "Prep time: 25 minutes," I know better. I automatically double the time because that's the time it takes actual humans. Am I saying that professional cooks aren't human? Yeah, kindofsortofmaybe.)
The crust called for "softened" butter. One thing you should know about me is that I completely ignore all prerequisites of baking. I don't preheat the oven to three-fifty, I don't take the eggs out of the fridge, (Lord knows that cold eggs have the potential to ruin stuff.) and I certainly don't take the butter out of the fridge the morning of so that it can achieve a room temperature by the time I start baking.
Thus, when the recipe said "softened," my brain transmitted, "throw it in the microwave, for pete's sake."
So, that's what I did. Did I pay for it later on? Yes. Will I change the way I read prerequisites in the future? No.
I overheated the butter, causing a portion of it to completely liquefy. Which was supposed to not matter, by the way. I just learned about the Law of Conservation of Mass, which states that during a reaction, matter is neither created nor destroyed. Thus, the butter liquefying did not alter any of my measurements, which is one thing I'm better at. But it did ruin the crust forever and make it greasy. And delicate. And terribly un-photogenic from one side where I kept ruining the scalloped edges by pressing against the crust. But it's okay because I just took a picture from the other side.
Ah, technology.
The pudding itself wasn't difficult, except I obviously wasn't the ideal demographic in mind. They merely brushed over the process, like, "yeah pour the milk in the egg mixture and spin a spoon in there," while I tried to analyze where in the recipe it said to get out the milk. Then again, I do require extensive detail to semi-decently complete any given task. So, don't go hating on allrecipes.com. They do their best.
Then, I finally topped it off with some good ole' fruits. My family loved it. They praised my baking skills. One cool thing about being totally mediocre is that the mediocre tasks you accomplish look fantastic to people around you, since they've learned to keep their expectations incredibly low. It works great for everyone.
Thank God for Fruit Tart.
*Disclaimer: Sara Lee Apple Pie is amazing and this was simply a joke. My family is indeed brought together by the delight that is your pie. Please don't sue. I want to go to college.
Really, though. I mean it. I didn't screw up. It's hard to believe, so I took pictures.
It started off with realizing that if I didn't get off the computer soon, I was about to get yelled at. So, in order to prevent Disaster, I went and did the work before It could occur.
I had midterms last week, which resulted in a four day break to relax and remember that nothing actually matters. (That's what breaks are meant for. To pretend you didn't have a mental breakdown in the middle of the week because Chemistry has taken over your life to the point that you dream about it.)
During that four-day break, instead of mourning grades, I decided to be productive and bake. And Fruit Tart it was.
The significance of Fruit Tart is that no one has objections to it. (Besides my older brother, but nobody asked him.) It isn't too sweet, isn't too bland, so the kids and adults make peace with each other over one dessert. Fruit Tart.
It's pure, smells great, brings together the family. Take that, Sara Lee. I'm pretty sure you guys don't even sell Frozen Fruit Tarts. *
Initially, while one searches for Fruit Tart recipes on the internet, they may say something like, "Oh, look at this! A ten-minute tart! Perfect for my busy schedule!"
And that may be true, too, until you open up the recipe and realize that the only reason it takes ten minutes is because all the ingredients are store bought by the baker and they simply spend ten minutes decorating the damn thing.
Now, I have nothing against pre-made items. They make life simple. The profit gives money to the people who are running a business on pre-made crusts. It makes the world spin a little faster.
Except I had to make everything. The crust I usually make by myself anyways, but for pudding I make exceptions. So, for the first time in my life, I made homemade pudding. It made me feel like I was in the nineteenth century, churning corn starch and egg whites, but it wasn't bad, I mean.
So, when I saw recipes for "Ten-Minute Fruit Tarts," you may understand, I was not amused. That thing took me two hours.
(Side note: It takes me forever to bake stuff. Whenever I see a recipe that says something like, "Prep time: 25 minutes," I know better. I automatically double the time because that's the time it takes actual humans. Am I saying that professional cooks aren't human? Yeah, kindofsortofmaybe.)
The crust called for "softened" butter. One thing you should know about me is that I completely ignore all prerequisites of baking. I don't preheat the oven to three-fifty, I don't take the eggs out of the fridge, (Lord knows that cold eggs have the potential to ruin stuff.) and I certainly don't take the butter out of the fridge the morning of so that it can achieve a room temperature by the time I start baking.
Thus, when the recipe said "softened," my brain transmitted, "throw it in the microwave, for pete's sake."
So, that's what I did. Did I pay for it later on? Yes. Will I change the way I read prerequisites in the future? No.
I overheated the butter, causing a portion of it to completely liquefy. Which was supposed to not matter, by the way. I just learned about the Law of Conservation of Mass, which states that during a reaction, matter is neither created nor destroyed. Thus, the butter liquefying did not alter any of my measurements, which is one thing I'm better at. But it did ruin the crust forever and make it greasy. And delicate. And terribly un-photogenic from one side where I kept ruining the scalloped edges by pressing against the crust. But it's okay because I just took a picture from the other side.
Ah, technology.
The pudding itself wasn't difficult, except I obviously wasn't the ideal demographic in mind. They merely brushed over the process, like, "yeah pour the milk in the egg mixture and spin a spoon in there," while I tried to analyze where in the recipe it said to get out the milk. Then again, I do require extensive detail to semi-decently complete any given task. So, don't go hating on allrecipes.com. They do their best.
Then, I finally topped it off with some good ole' fruits. My family loved it. They praised my baking skills. One cool thing about being totally mediocre is that the mediocre tasks you accomplish look fantastic to people around you, since they've learned to keep their expectations incredibly low. It works great for everyone.
Thank God for Fruit Tart.
*Disclaimer: Sara Lee Apple Pie is amazing and this was simply a joke. My family is indeed brought together by the delight that is your pie. Please don't sue. I want to go to college.
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