I suck at cooking.
Anyway, today, I was waiting for my boys to get out of two-a-day football conditioning so we could play, when I decided to expand my cooking talent. I don't really want my future family living off of frozen pizzas and ramen, do I? No!
So, I got up off the couch after looking at delicious pinterest recipes and decided to make some gooey butter pink lemonade cookies.
While searching through the pantry to find the ingredients, aka the tools to my next greatest achievement, I ran into a little snag: my mother doesn't cook either. So we have no cooking ingredients. None. Zilch. We don't even have flour. FLOUR. So I went back to the drawing board for recipes I could actually attempt.
Then, I came across a lovely article on making a cake in a mug. How magical is that?! It seemed so fool-proof. It was perfect for someone (me) so ill-educated in the culinary arts.
I got to work collecting my three ingredients, coco powder, powdered sugar and eggs. That much was accessible to me. I proceeded to crack the egg in the mug, and added the dry ingredients, which I whisked oh-so-expertly into a rich chocolate liquid.
The instructions told me to microwave it for 50-60 seconds. I decided 55 because it was in the middle.
The microwave going, my mouth watering in anticipation every passing second. I was finally going to accomplish something delicious! Something that my mother would actually eat! Something I could brag about to Desi (aka the teen Rachel Ray)!
The microwave finally let out the wonderful beep, informing me that deliciousness was just a bite away. But immediately taking out the mug, I knew something was wrong. It was very very very liquid-y. It also smelled like burnt rubber and had the consistency of a sponge filled with slime.
But I am not a believer in appearances! I was ready to eat that cake if it killed me! My fork poised in the air, like a jaguar in a tree, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting prey (the cake), I took a bite. And almost threw up.
It was awful. AWFUL. It was slimy, and sticky, and it tasted like a car tire (trust me, I've licked one of those. Ick). It had chunks of cooked egg in it. I went to my innocent mother and made her try it, just in case I was being delusional. Nope. It was nasty.
I then threw the cake in the trash, along with my hopes and dreams.
And now my frozen pizza is cooking in the oven.