In depth ramblings about cooking, homekeeping, and whatever else I decide to write about.
One thing we have to face about the thirty-minute meal maker is that she is seriously lacking skills in the dessert department. I don’t even know why she bothers to make dessert. Pretty much everything she makes is an incarnation of an ice cream sundae, fruit kabobs, or some type of thing made with premade angel food cake. I’m pretty sure that she would agree with my arm chair analysis of her piss poor dessert skills. I think the most inspiring of her desserts (note extreme sarcasm) would be her crunchy monkey peanut butter-banana sticks which consist of a bananas on a chop stick rolled in peanut butter and granola. That recipe must have taken years to develop.
With that said, I have to commiserate with her on her crappy baking skills. I hate baking. I can do it, but I hate it. I would rather have a shaken soda shot up my nose than bake. My husband is like a damned Betty Crocker except that he is a man and not a computerized compilation of women of different races. For me, baking consists of popping Pillsbury southern style frozen biscuits in the oven (which taste a lot like homemade), popping in break and bake cookies (which I usually make Aaron do) heating up a bagel, or thawing out my favorite Pepperidge frozen coconut cake and throwing on a plate.
This Pepperidge Farm cake is proof that God exists. My husband hates cake but loves this. Everyone I give it to loves it and can’t get enough.The best part of this cake is its frosting. It has a frosting that is part icing, part fluffy whipped “stuff.” It’s enough on it’s own, but drizzling it with hot fudge pushes it over the top and then back again.
So, that is my cake hack. One Pepperidge Farm coconut cake drizzled with warm hot fudge (inspired by “When Harry Met Sally.” If you kept everyone away from the kitchen and served it sliced and already drizzled, you might could play it off as your own (not that you should lie to your guest, but you can if you want.)