Yesterday was an awful day. MMango can attest to it. I was a big time Debbie. Just moody and cranky, both in person and online. I’m pretty sure if MMango could have stuck his arm through the screen, he would have slapped me across the face…but with the back of his hand, not the front. And to make my bad mood even worse, I had a 6-month cleaning with my dentist.
I. Was. Miz.
Miz = short for miserable. Love it or leave it. I don’t care.
Anyways, as I was walking back from the dentist, proud that I passed with flying colors and won’t have endure another “deep cleaning” because I neglected to go to a dentist for two years (don’t judge, I didn’t have insurance), I decided that I would treat myself to something delightful for dinner. What a horribly wrong decision that was.
I passed pizza place after pizza place (why is there nothing but pizza on 3rd ave in the mid 30′s?) until I finally realized I was going to have to make my own delightful dinner. Too lazy to trek to Trader Joe’s and too broke to go to the organic grocery store on my block, I settled on Morton Williams. Awesome. And as I aimlessly wandered around the store, trying to decide what would be my big treat, I found myself even more confused than when I arrived. The shelf stock boys were starting to question whether or not I was a terrorist; the old women with their carts were pissed that I lapped them again and again; I was the Tasmanian Devil and I was no longer welcome.
So as I felt my time running out (before they kicked me out for creepiness) I settled on kirby cucumbers (healthy!), a red bell pepper (double healthy!), and a box of Angel Food Cake (whaaaaaaat?). I don’t know what happened. Where the fuck did that come from? Is dessert a food group? WHY DID I JUST PURCHASE A BOX OF ANGEL FOOD CAKE. I’m not lying to you when I say I’ve NEVER had angel food cake in my life. Welp, there was no turning back now. Food was purchased and my stomach was turning. I needed sustenance in the form of powder sugar and cream of tartar.
As to be expected, the baking of it was a nightmare. I don’t know if you’ve ever made angel food cake before, but shit is bananas. Like expands and grows like CRAZY (that’s what she said). I made a total mess of the kitchen but I didn’t care. If my roomie can brew beer in our kitchen, I can make messy angel food cake god dammit! And made it I did. I couldn’t even wait for the loaf to cool before cutting into it. It was still warm when I sliced it up so the pieces looked like a toddler hacked at it. I topped that shit off with a warm berry sauce (fruits! woo hoo!) and polished off the entire loaf.
Yes, the entire loaf.
So what does this rant have to do with anything? Nothing, of course. Just know this: angel food cake is not a dessert, it’s dinner from heaven. And if any of you are ever feeling as miserable as I was yesterday, I hope you’ll remember this story and immediately set-up a 1:1 with Betty Crocker. I promise you won’t be disappointed.