4.07.2007

Finally, a use for the bathroom in which I froze my ass off all winter...


My Paris apartment is beginning to feel like one of those high altitude places that necessitate separate cooking directions on cake boxes. This afternoon I quickly whipped up some American boxed cake, poured it in my French Pyrex-like dish, and stuck it in the obscure box that is used to warm things in my kitchen. My old oven broke in January and the landlord replaced it with a new, incredibly powerful, can cook a pumpkin pie in 15 minutes, machine. Boxed cake should take 33-36 minutes to bake and this afternoon? THIRTEEN MINUTES, BABY.

Let it be known that I was skeptical of the quality of this heat; I stuck my knife in it a hundred times to find where the uncooked batter lay... "you can't have just cooked this cake in less than half the time!" I said out loud to the Whirlpool magic. And so I stuck it back in for another two minutes because I wanted to reassure myself that I wouldn't be serving anyone raw eggs cooked no longer than an extended commercial-break. After about a minute and a half, the cake OPENED FROM WITHIN and proclaimed its done-ness.

I then moved it to the icy bathroom, which is finally serving its purpose as a larger, oddly-shaped refrigerator where I do things like cool cakes and chill champagne.

Questionable? Or just real damn smart?

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

mmmm, cake looks good!

glad you got a new super-microwave!
Erica

ev said...

haaaaaaa about your bathroom. can we trade ovens, please? we're so sick of this shitty one. btw, i'm still trying to get over the oddity of your square-shaped toilet.

seasidesar said...

please send me a piece of that cake? looks great* xoxox