Sunday, October 30, 2011

pumpkin time

Sonny's coming for dinner and I am scrapping for a killer dessert recipe, a little show-off cooking if you will. I want to dazzle the company.  There are several pounds of apples in my fridge calling to me, we wanna be pie, bake us into pie but I don't feel like cleaning up flour and cinnamon for the next several hours, pies are messy stuff.  I am staring at a can of pumpkin and when I peel back the label, kazaam!   Encoded on the back are hidden secret recipes and then I see it, Pumpkin Roll,  oh glorious, I must do this.

I read through the recipe and cringe at the instructions, only a chump would attempt this, a fool born every minute, yes, but not on this block.   I mix up the little bowl of orange dough and then spoon it out on a greased and floured piece of wax paper which is stuck on a jelly roll pan by another layer of grease.  When the cake comes out I must toss it on a kitchen towel dusted with powdered sugar and wrap cake and towel into a big lump of cloth cake and let it cool. What is this nonsense?  This is positively insane and there will be orange chunks dotted with walnuts and congealed powdered sugar all over my counter. I smell all my kitchen towels looking for one that doesnt' smell like lavender Bounce and let the challenge begin.

First, whip up three feces-encrusted eggs you purchased from the Amish lady at farmers' market.  What is with these people and their complete ignorance of simple hygiene?  I bet they don't own one container of sanitary wipes.

Secondly, remove the pan from the oven that you cooked your pork tenderloins on last week.

Pumpkin loaf is plumping nicely.  It will soon be time to start the circus antics, tossing this thing on a powdered-sugar towel and I'm trying not to panic.

I had other pictures but who cares. This has dragged on long enough and the darn thing is filled, rolled and sitting on the round steak and next to the tuna.  I open the fridge numerous times during the day to spy on my project probably spoiling the tuna, but who likes tuna anyway. Oh, and now that you've seen the inside of my appliances I feel such a special closeness with you.  Do you feel the love, too?  
"Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater, had a wife but couldn't keep her. Put her in a pumpkin shell and there he kept her very well."  Wise up, Pete, and get some decent real estate or Jack Sprat will be parking his shoes under your wife's bed.


MrDaveyGie said...

The apples are talking to you???? You've started drinking early didn't you???

dawn marie giegerich said...

Um-m-m, what?