Get in there, you.
First, start off with a hungry husband. Then, add a reason to use the new ebay find. That’s all you need, really.
R decided to make a batch himself and so I guided him by the small of his back to the pantry. At this station, we reviewed the different ingredients needed. I described the softness of flour and let him feel the grainy texture of sugar. With a nod of my head, I brought R to the sink to show him how to crack eggs. The recipe called for egg yolks only. What ensued was the worst case of egg-slaughtering since the “Tee-Peeing Incident of 1989”.
I explained the process and turned my back. Splatter. Then another splatter, and another. It was a disaster.
I caught this egg’s demise at the last second.
And so I stood over R like the micro-manager that I am to make sure everything was going correctly. In the end, I had to take over and do the yolks myself.
R took a wrong turn at the ‘rolling-the-dough-into-a-ball’ demonstration and made his own variation: the biscuit-cookie. Which would really be calling it a cookie-cookie if we were anywhere else in the world.
At the end of the night, we gave a moment of silence to the poor little eggs that fell in battle at R’s hands.
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