A Cake Walk?

Few days ago, when I sat gazing at my books, I was reminded of an extremely unrelated task to attend to- a chocolate cake. Yes, the food addict part of me was aroused and the self discovery path was treaded.

The slightest notion of that ‘in-making’ delicacy was quick enough to make dual space in mind and stomach for that scrumptious desert for dinner. My study suggested that it was easier to convince your maid when your mom is not at home. So clicking in the right idea at the right time, I set off to furnish this in built thought.

Ingredients required:

3 eggs, 100 ml butter, 3 cups crushed sugar, 1 and half cup flour, half cup milk chocolate, 2 tea spoons of vanilla essence and 2 table spoons of baking powder.

Procedure:

Start off by choosing a bowl for the reactions to be carried out. I call them reactions to make novice aware of the deleterious circumstances they may be involving themselves into.

The eggs are to be crucified one by one and forced to mingle with dear butter. After being sure of their relation, proceed to unite the loner, crushed sugar with them. The trio must appear decently satisfied with their newborn relation to advance into further complex family planning steps.

After liberally permitting them to rejoice each other’s company for 5 minutes, resolve to indulge flour into the affair. With an extra effort by the spoon, the intervention to this mixture is to be followed closely by a mild attack of vanilla essence, baking powder and milk chocolate.

After 10 minutes of evil whips by the churner, shower pity at the dear reaction mixtures. It is the test time. Transfer the would-be-mouth-watering-desert-batter into the bowl. Flatter self by the appeal of the batter.

Being confident of the supreme make, put the batter into the microwave. Set the timer. 24 minutes. At ease by the thought of the desert coming on its way.

A patient wait for 25 minutes. Open the microwave. Smell the cake and arouse the addiction. Hold a knife, cut the cake and look at the piece in a succulent manner. A deep breath, an aroma to fill the kitchen, a bite of that heaven-made product.

Instantly look at your eyes pop out, mouth drop open and tongue roll out.

Nauseating!

Console soul, shoot an inquisitive look at the cake with eyes speaking the loud question. “WHAT WENT WRONG?”

Try to deduce the wrong step. Fail miserably. Anticipate mom’s arrival. Plead her to taste the cake. (Moms are genuine souls!). See her twitch her body, shoot a look at that merely “good-looking” cake. Follow her by running right into the kitchen and extract the bottle of crushed sugar. Watch her inquisitive question ”Is this what you used?” After a nod, giggle,chuckle, hear her utter, “Oh! The maid must have changed bottles. This is salt afterall!”

Now did I say it was an easy way out with the maids??

Precisely my first cake. So you see what a cake walk I had!