As I took a brief pause from preparations for the upcoming three day Yom Tov (Shabbos then two days of Shavuous) a few minutes ago, I opened up my Facebook for the first time all day. The first thing I saw was one of my FB friends posing adorably with her young daughter, showing their gorgeous Har Sinai (Mt. Sinai) cakes. They baked them in honor of Shavuous (holiday celebrating the Jews receiving the Torah on Mt. Sinai). [OK, who are we kidding? I was checking email/texting/fb messaging/checking fb/playing Scramble since I awoke this morning, but I am going for dramatic effect]. She always posts all this awesome looking food she has made and I post pictures of my kids at Starbucks.
Anyway, just moments prior to opening the gorgeous cookbook-worthy shot, I had finished a grueling project with my own little darlings. That's right, Zsa Zsa and Eva were baking today. There is a reason they are named Zsa Zsa and Eva--they should not be allowed in the kitchen. But as their future will likely demand some level of proficiency in the kitchen, I have signed Zsa Zsa up for a backyard camp for the summer that is staffed by Yeshiva (high school) girls and purports to teach girls ages 9-12 how to bake, cook, set a Shabbos table, and magically make the house perfect for Shabbos with several dripping wet/screaming children and only 15 minutes to spare before candlelighting. OK, maybe not the last thing.
You will notice that I did not say, "Because my girls are likely to have to do a lot of cooking and baking in the future, I have decided to begin patiently and lovingly teaching them the fundamentals at the tender ages of 7 and 9." This is because I am neither patient nor loving when it comes to baking. And half the time my stuff does not turn out well and I FOR SURE never post my results on Facebook. Except that time a few months ago I put a photo of my chocolate cake which literally EXPLODED in the oven when I put in 1.5 TBSP baking soda instead of 1.5 TSP. This is a true story. Check my FB page.
So Zsa Zsa and Eva decided yesterday they were going to bake brownies from scratch today to bring to our lovely friends who are hosting us for lunch tomorrow. Because we love them so much (I just put that in there as a shout-out to the G family). They picked out the recipe from our "Kids in the Kitchen" cookbook and we made sure all the ingredients would be ready at our fingertips. This book, by the way, is a bit of scam because it purports to have recipes which children can actually do on their own. I love the cookbook because it contains several recipes I MYSELF regularly cook. This is my level of proficiency on the kitchen.
Today after our morning jaunt to Starbucks and Target, we came home and began baking. They decided they would "do it themselves." As soon as Eva started reading the recipe out loud and saying "Three four cups of flour, what's that mean? Zsa Zsa, come read this!" I knew we were in trouble. And when Zsa Zsa wanted to know if she could use the 1/4 cup measure for the 2/3 cup of whatever, I felt like my head would explode.
Basically, baking with them is akin to baking with two people from Chelm. But the real reason I don't like baking with them is that I kind of turn into a little bit of a control freak/Momster in the process. Example 1) Zsa Zsa: "Mommy, how do I get six tablespoons of margerine from this stick?" Me: "Cut on the line after you count six TBSP from the end." Zsa Zsa: "What do I cut it with?" Me: "A knife." Zsa Zsa: "What kind of knife?" Me: "A SHARP ONE!" Zsa Zsa: "OK." Goes to cutlery drawer to search for knife. Me: "THAT'S NOT WHERE WE KEEP OUR SHARP KNIVES!" Exasperatedly point to knife block. Sigh.
Now, I am not proud of this, but I am proud that I recognize my limitations and, therefore, when the Gabor sisters told me they were planning this baking project, I very maturely said, "Ooooo-kaaaayyyy," while rolling my eyes. Unfortunately, this subtlety was lost on them and they thought I actually meant, "OK."
So the brownies are now, by some miracle, done. We even made frosting. In spite of the fact that Eva read me the ingredients list without looking at the corresponding instructions so I didn't realize we were supposed to add the confectioners sugar and soy milk AFTER mixing the other ingredients (notice that by the time the frosting was made there was no pretense that they were "doing it themselves").
No matter, we will cut them up, arrange them on a plate covered with saran and put some decorations on top. Never mind that our friend is AMAZING in the kitchen and even knows how to make those cake balls on a stick that they have at Starbucks and look awesome (but we don't eat because they aren't kosher). And can bake/cook/decorate anything. We will proudly take our imperfect brownies and deliver them this afternoon. And try to arrange them so their lopsidedness is de-emphasized.
And instead of posting a picture of them on Facebook, I am posting this blog instead.
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