Cutting my losses...

Sometimes things don’t turn out the way you planned.

For most of my childhood, Saturday afternoons were spent riding around the countryside in one of the antique cars that my father and grandfather restored.  My dad always said that you didn’t always have to know where you were going, but you should always know how to get back.  He probably read that on a bumper sticker somewhere; my father was not terribly profound.  We got lost a lot (after all our pilot was a male who lacked the gene required to ask for directions), but we always found our way home.  Dad instilled in me my love of adventure and exploration.  There are situations in our lives where taking the unfamiliar path, exploring the unknown can lead to great things.  But dad was right; you should always know how to get back.  It’s a nice balance between risk and safety.

I’m a girl who likes a plan.  I like to know where I’m going.  I know how to follow directions.  I ask questions and gather information before making big decisions.  I find comfort in knowledge.

One of the things I like most about baking is that there’s a plan, a guide that will take you through each step until you accomplish your goal.  There is a little room for experimentation, a chance to make each recipe your own.  Taking a tray of baked goods out of the oven, or better yet, watching people devour them, leaves me with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.  I like that.  I am, generally, a person who is highly motivated by praise and reward.  Kind of like a puppy. 

But today was proof that even when you have a plan and follow directions the outcome is not always predictable. 

I don’t know where I went wrong. I was trying to make a flourless “Death by Chocolate” cake.  Once again, I have been trying to find a recipe that gives me the satisfaction of having cake, but doesn’t leave longing for frosting.  The description said that this had the consistency of a truffle, but fudgier.  The end result did not have the consistency of a truffle.  Not at all.

Instead, I had five jars of goo.  I went back over my recipe, trying to retrace my steps.  But the truth is, it was probably a project that was doomed from the start.  Some things are like that.  It was heartbreaking to waste perfectly good chocolate.  However, sometimes, even with the best laid plans, we have to cut our losses and start over.

 Death By Chocolate seems like an inappropriate name when you consider 

the chocolate to egg/butter ratio.