Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Freshly Pressed’

Sometime last week, I was reading this post on Freshly Pressed. I was super busy and only managed to glance through it – that was enough. The post included delicious pictures of coconut macaroons and a recipe as well. It looked easy enough but not when you don’t own an oven or have any concept of baking.

If you’ve been reading, you may already know that I’m quite co-dependent and end up enlisting my friends and family to help with my crazy (and often dull) schemes. As I was reading, a friend whose parents are both chefs rang me. Perfect timing!

 

Him: HEY!

Me: I need to make coconut macaroons.

Him: Why?

Me: What do you mean why? I just do.

Him: Umm okay.

 

 

The hesitation was mostly because he knew that he would be doing all the baking and all I’d be doing was looming over him telling him how he was doing it wrong.

Friday arrived – It had been my first day off in three months. Well, almost. I had to pop-in to work for about an hour and travel two to do it. Anyway, I was back soon enough and ready for what I thought would be a couple of hours of baking.

I start by reading the recipe out to my friend. 

I need to digress for a minute. To me, the people who write recipes are the most evil. Every time I read a recipe, it always looks simple and undemanding.

 Of course, this is not true. It is hard to make even the simplest things because words like chop, sauté, julienne – words that fly of the tongue ever so easily, that occupy only the smallest place on a page – take much more time and effort to do than reading them. This is presumably known and even effortless to a person that cooks or bakes regularly. To a person that does not, on the other hand, it may come as a shock to find out that chopping an onion is a near impossible task. I was recently forced to cook and attempted to make a vegetable dish whose recipe included onions.  It took me nearly an hour to do chop one single onion (not well, might I add). Drudgery!

Back to the macaroons! So not only am I an idiot, I suppose I am also not a nice person. My friend was like, “Can you please look up how much a cup is”. I spent several minutes mocking how he thought a cup was a real measure and guess what! It is – 200 grams in fact. Not just the size of whatever cup you have lying around. I have no excuse.

Okay so we get down to it. I have no concept of how many macaroons we’re going to get out of the whole thing but that doesn’t stop me from insisting we double the recipe. I wish people would stop me when I act like this but they don’t.

The instructions provided were lovely and uncomplicated.  After following them, I can tell you that this is what they should have been.

Step 1: Spend an hour grinding almonds with a stone and pestle because the recipe suggests an amount that is too little to go into your grinder. 

Step 2: Attempt to separate the eight egg whites. Allow your friend to do seven. Try one. Drop the yolk into the bowl.

Step 3: Finally see what ONE KILOGRAM of powdered coconut looks like. Realize you have no concept of what a kilo is either and you’ve made a huge mistake.

Step 4: Mix everything together and stir. Cover the entire kitchen with coconut!

Step 5: Transfer the ingredients to the stove. Add another layer of coconut to the kitchen in the process.

Step 6: Be thrown out of the kitchen because the kind of stirring required is not for amateurs. Silently, be relieved.

Step 7: Then spend forever rolling the dough into balls.

Such a good hairday wasted in the kitchen

 

Step 8: Put them into the oven and spend an hour cleaning up the terrible mess you’ve made.

In all, this whole exercise took seven hours and reminded me how much I hate all kitchen related activities. The only thing fun about it was calling them Coco Maca’s all day.  In the hours we were there, my friend’s mother baked FIVE different cakes. No, that is not a typo- she actually baked five different cakes.

I was so tired and unfulfilled by the time they were done, I truly couldn’t have cared less how they turned out – or so I thought. I tasted one and only then  remembered that I absolutely loathe coconut desserts.

I knew that. I’ve known that my whole life. Why then did I choose to spend my first weekday vacation day in three months making a snack I wasn’t going to eat?

Because that's what they looked like on the website

 

Those are ours

As it turns out, no one I know is a fan either. So if any one out there is interested in one kilo of coconut macaroons, you know where to find me.

Read Full Post »

If it was up to me, I’d be a star. My mommy has confirmed that I have all the makings. So understandably, I have often been baffled at my lack of worldwide acclaim and adoring fans.

Why haven’t I been invited to hand out the lifetime achievement awards at the Oscars? Why haven’t I been invited to the Oscars? Why doesn’t Oscar de La Renta send me free stuff to wear at all the parties I attend. ( Have I said Oscar too much ? ) Why have I not been Freshly Pressed ? Why am I not followed around by the paparazzi when I step out to get coffee?

NOTE: Honestly, I’m not so surprised at the last one. I’m not sure we have a paparazzi. Mostly, because even our major other celebrities look like hell.

Then one day it finally struck me, I WAS famous – but secretly. It was the only logical explanation. My fame and fantastic-ness ( is that a word ? ) has to be kept under-wraps. Oh yes, I am the double-oh-seven of the celebrated. Outstanding, just not in an obvious kind of way.

So how did I uncover the truth ? Elementary, my poor confused readers.

All the signs were right there:

• People do not ask me to autograph otherwise unseen parts of their bodies.

• I do not have a drinking problem.

• I’ve never been on MTM Crib’s or the Fabulous Life.

• I often see people staring at me on the street or on the train. ( I had mistakenly attributed this to me being covered in food quite often and having long chats with myself.)

• When I go out without make-up, pictures of me do not appear on the cover of all the tabloids.

• No one has ever given me swag / a swag / a swag bag.

• I do not actually know the correct usage of the word swag.

Now that you’re convinced, you must want to know why this has been kept quiet for so long? The answer to this is quite simple as well. It’s a plot by the company I work from to keep from having to pay me more. So if anyone asks, you’ve never heard of me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Like this on Facebook

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: