What I lack in domesticity, I more than make up for in bullshitability. (New word. Learn it.) Meaning, I can totally fake being the good housewife suburbia compels me to be, nevermind a few fires and explosions.
At Christmas, the neighbors bring their home-baked goodies to my door, generously
showing off sharing their kitchen skills and naturally, I feel like I should reciprocate. It's the nice thing to do after all, and lately, I've been trying on "nice" to see if it fits me. (So far... not-so-much.)
But bake? I'd rather do laundry. And judging by the pile of clothes yet to be washed, that sure doesn't say much for baking. Make a nice loaf of bread? Sure, give me the store bought box-o-ingredients and an egg or whatever the hell else you're supposed to add and I can give it a try. I don't want to, but I suppose I could give it a go. But you lose me if I have to make two... because the attention span is just not there.
And cookies? Hell no. Waaaay too much work. My sons once observed my mother-in-law making cookies from scratch (I like to think of "scratch" as in "scratch that, ain't doin' it") and E-man politely asked "Where are the squares you break off and put on the pan?" As in, the only cookies he's seen me make come in convenient little squares you can just break off, set on a baking sheet and in twelve minutes, damn, you've managed to burn them all.
My BFF Tamara in GA mentioned something about a candy thermometer the other day and I was like, "Huh? Wha...? Who?" So. You know. That's sums up that idear right there.
Although, I am now "in" on Wild Bill's Super Secret Toffee recipe that is coveted amongst our family and friends. And you know what? Not only do I have the recipe, I CAN ACTUALLY MAKE IT. I was very proud of this until someone pointed out on Twitter that of course I can make it, BECAUSE IT'S BURNT SUGAR. Ugh. So true.
This weekend, I managed to get a few batches whooped up:
(We won't talk about the fact that I somehow managed to leave the gas burner a-flame while setting a wood tray on an adjacent burner and then left for an hour-and-a-half to run some errands, only figuring out that the stove was on the whole fuhreakin' time a few hours later. OOPS.)
(Dear Homeowners Insurance Company: Soooo totally joking. No. Really! Please don't raise my premiums! Will try harder next time!)
The other way I impress my neighbors is with these little gems I like to call Chocolate Covered Pretzel Sticks (very creative name, I know). They look festive but guess what? They're super easy, super simple and
if when you burn the chocolate, you just try again. No biggie!
While I can't give you the recipe to Wild Bill's Super Secret Toffee, I can tell you how to look damn near domestic via these bad boys:
Unwrap chocolate bars or Hershey's Kisses in a coffee mug and microwave for 40 seconds, stir and heat for another 30 seconds. Put colorful sprinkles, chopped nuts, candy canes pieces (a mallet works FANTASTIC for smashing candy canes, by the way), coconut or whatever you please on plates. Dip pretzel sticks (I used Rold Gold Honey Wheat Braided Twists) in the melted chocolate (not too much chocolate), roll in toppings, set on wax paper. Chill all pretzel sticks in the fridge for 30 minutes to harden chocolate. Put in tupperware with lid and keep chilled.
See? I can totally fake it. Wink.