Before I go about telling the scintillating tale of my struggles with baking, let me get one fact out of the way. When it comes to cooking, I’m no Gordon Ramsay (swearing is an entirely different matter altogether). I’m not even fit to cook simple 2-step dishes. The only thing I can make is ready-to-make Maggi noodles, and even those have been banned now!
Anyway, just last week I decided to try out a recipe for a Chocolate Mug Cake I’d found on Google. The batter for that was pretty easy to make and involved just a few components, which is always a good thing where I’m concerned (I lay the blame for this on my pseudo-ADHD ways). While that cooked in the oven, I turned my attention to the frosting. According to me – and me only if my mother is to be believed – any cake/cupcake is incomplete without frosting. So it seemed a natural progression for me to look up a recipe for the same and get to whipping!
The method I narrowed down on after a search of approximately five minutes on Google promised that the frosting would be ready in 15 minutes of whisking a mixture of butter, icing sugar and heavy cream. In hindsight, that should have been the first thing to arouse my suspicion if I’d actually paid attention to more than just the heading (in my defence, I was on a slight sugar high).
So for 15 minutes I whisked the above mentioned mixture – I must claim that my right hand suffers from a serious case of carpal tunnel now – in a monotonous circular motion, but to my chagrin the frosting never ‘peaked’ as the recipe had suggested. I kept at it by rationalizing to myself that these things never really give an accurate time frame. This went on for another 15 minutes during which I constantly deluded myself into spotting some change in the mixture. After 30 minutes, the cake was ready and cooked to perfection, but the frosting was still as liquid as when I had started a good half an hour ago!
Almost ready to hang up my boots, I decided it was time to review the recipe, which is what I proceeded to do. What I then read made me want to slap myself silly, because in my excitement I had mixed the recipe of making buttercream frosting, which is what I intended to make, with that of whipped cream. To top it all off, the recipe was about whisking the mixture for 15 minutes in an actual mixer and not by hand, hence there wasn’t any change in its form.
After berating myself thoroughly, I resolved to keep whisking the mixture for another 15 minutes in the hope that it would solidify a little so that I can salvage it. It did, but barely. However that didn’t deter me from using it to ice the cake. Because however big a mess I may have made, the frosting was still pretty damn amazing if you only consider its taste. Of course I didn’t let the family know that there was anything wrong with the icing. I have too much pride for that.
PS. A message to frosting, ‘ You may have won the battle, but I’ll win the war.’
PPS. I’m fully aware that frosting is an inanimate object. I’m not crazy. My mother had me tested!
PPPS. Thank you Sheldon Cooper for that last line. I’ve always wanted to use it.