It's never as bad as it seems

As a person venturing out into the world of cooking, I find myself anxious about making mistakes.  I'm too literal when it comes to reading a recipe.  I'm worried because my oven cooks on the warm side.  I'm afraid about substituting different  items.  And if things go wrong, I panic.  ALL OUT PANIC.   In fact, I was almost in tears Tuesday night on account of some After Dinner Mint Triangles.  For serious.

I hosted my first show Wednesday, and I was worried about having all of the proper ingredients and tools, since it was a "cooking" show to take place in my work's break room.  Cooking is relative since I only had a sink and microwave to contend with.  I decided we'd make two recipes, instead of the normal one, because it'd be fun and it'd give me some practice.  However, the third recipe, the mint triangles, were going to be made ahead of time, because I appreciate my co-workers, and I'm trying to drum up some business here!



Back to Tuesday: I prep what I can, pack up my bag, and start on the dessert.  It's a straight-up recipe with minimal ingredients, and no real cooking to speak of.  I decide to make two batches since I have three things going on Wednesday that could each use some food.

Don't want to jinx it, make one at a time.  Put in the crust, not enough, need to double before moving on.

Doubled recipe, lumpy crust, let's just make the topping and make due.

Not enough topping to make an evenly consistent layer.  Looks messy.

Chocolate drizzle?  Covers a variety of sins, Praise a Maker.

Then the real problem starts...  Cutting out the perfect triangles.  Really?  It's an easy, geometric shape that shouldn't produce any real problems, just make some squares and cut them in half, right?  Riiiiight...

The knife won't stay clean, the cream cheese topping won't stick to the crust, and this pampered chef is on the brink of a mental breakdown.  Thomas claims that just before this happens, I make a Kermit/muppet face that foretells the impending doom.  Luckily, he was there to save me.  Turns out all I needed was some time with a freezer and a pizza cutter.

Dessert was saved, everyone adored it, and the unsung hero, my husband, wasn't even around to take the credit.

Shame.  Maybe next time?  Maybe not. 

At least he got to eat everything that crumbled apart and was left behind in the pan.

PS - for my work party, we created some Cheesy Chicken Chilaquiles and Mango Confetti Salsa.  I highly recommend both!  (I meant to take pictures, but was so easily distracted by how much fun we had.)