Have you ever done something SOOOOOO stupid that you decide it’s better to never ever speak of it again? Well, what if it kinda has to be addressed because people who don’t realize your stupid mistake keeping bringing it up. OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN? Well, if you have a blog, you write a blog entry about it.
But then you’re faced with the dilemma: How do I write about this in a way to make myself seem maybe not so terribly stupid?
And then you realize: You can’t. You’re a total dumbass.
Where to begin? Let’s start with Halloween when I first fixed Red Velvet Cake
balls Poppers. I didn’t make them fancy, just did the chocolate covering, no sticks. They weren’t pretty but EVERYONE LOVED THEM. I mean, people mentioned they were the best things they had ever eaten, they could not get enough of them, HOW DO YOU MAKE THEM? They were my first truly successful party contribution as the world swooned over them. I made several batches over the next few weeks and they were all equally adored.
Fast Forward to two weeks ago. I made a batch to distribute to the teachers at NikkiZ’s school. I felt like they didn’t turn out as red as the previous batches, but the teachers still loved them. As a matter of fact, one of them mentioned them to me TODAY. And said, “I’m finally done with them…can we get some more?” I made another batch, also not as red, for my family for Christmas. Everyone LOVED THEM. Just as much as the first few (and redder) batches. I kept telling everyone that I think I must have bought a different brand of Red Velvet cake this time because the last two batches weren’t as red as I remember in October.
You would have thought at some point I might have double-checked the recipe. Right? Because I swear by Pioneer Woman and her pictures, and one glance at her blog entry would have told me why they weren’t as red as the first few batches…the ones that I actually LOOKED AT THE RECIPE.
See? That’s where I went wrong. I assumed I could do it from memory…and I couldn’t. The End.
NOW…before I tell you my fatal error let me remind you: EVERYONE LOVED THEM. I swear, in terms of taste? I don’t think there was that much difference. The main difference was in appearance. Everyone LOVED THEM. I want to repeat that over and over again. And now? I will tell you what I did wrong.
Okay…I can’t do it. I can’t tell you. I’m that embarrassed. I’m embarrassed because my family and I actually talked about this one thing and I totally blew past it in conversation. I basically said, “Yeah! I did it wrong!” over and over and over again…never quite realizing that I DID IT WRONG.
It took someone going home and looking up the recipe at the website I told them to visit before I got a text that said, “Um…Pioneer Woman says to cook the mix first.”
I’ll let that sink in for a moment…let my full on stupidity REALLY soak in.
Yes…I made Red Velvet Cake Poppers and didn’t COOK THE MIX FIRST. I basically just mixed the cream cheese frosting in with the powdered mix and rolled into balls, coated with chocolate, and served.
And yes…everyone was amazed that you didn’t cook the mix and I kept saying, “Don’t cook the mix!” Even though several times before? I cooked the mix. As a matter of fact, if I had thought about it for two seconds I would remember how irritated I was that I had to wait for the cake to cool after cooking it. When I realized what I had done I was so SO mortified that I tried to just forget about it. Except everyone keeps emailing me and facebooking me and stopping me in public to tell me HOW AWESOME THE UNCOOKED CAKE POPPERS ARE! So, I have to come clean, and admit to the world: I did it wrong. Yes…they were good. No…they wouldn’t kill you. (It’s not like I put the eggs in or anything…just the powdered mix and the cream cheese icing.) But I did it very terribly wrong. And this is why I should never EVER EVER EVER cook without the recipe. EVER.
Please don’t tell Pioneer Woman or Bakerella about my ridiculous mistake. I’m new to the club and I’d hate for them to boot me out before I even get an excuse to buy one of those cute mortar and pestles.