Once Naomi was going to make a cake while I was out doing something else. She called me—panic was in her voice—and said: I think I did something wrong. I put one cup of vanilla and a tablespoon of sugar in the cake. I think it should have been the other way around. The bottle of vanilla was empty and the cake didn’t turn out that great. Since then Naomi has baked a lot and she always makes sure she reads the recipe well.
Today Steve was going to bless me by making a coffee cake. He has never made a cake before. And while I was suffering at the dentist’s, he was suffering in the kitchen.
He picked me up and said: I forgot to double the amount of baking powder.
I said: Why did you have to double it?
He said: Because you had written Double the recipe next to the recipe.
To which I replied: Uh oh. That was something I wrote many years ago when I had a huge pan. The pan you used doesn’t need that much batter.
My loving man’s jaw dropped: Oh, shoot. Also, that was A LOT of butter.
I felt like my crown came loose. Steve, did you use 3/4 of a Norwegian pack of butter?
He looked at me with his puppy dog eyes. Of course, that is what you had written.
I looked him with my Betty Crocker eyes. Yes, but I wrote that many years ago, and it was 3/4 of a Thai pack of butter, about 1/2 cup.
He sighed, like a knight who just got stabbed with a sword. Seriously? I think I put about two cups of butter in the cake. Crap. Is there a way to take butter out from cake batter?
The cake had to bake for quite a bit longer than the recipe said. It’s a little salty and greasy. But it was made with love—and a lot of butter.
The lesson one can learn from these two stories that are accounts of unfortunate incidents that happened to two of the people I love the most in the world: Read the recipe well and follow the directions to a tee. Ignore the handwritten notes in the margin unless you know what you are doing.
This is how we should live too.