Just call me Masterchef

Sometimes my own greatness astounds me. There is nothing I can not do in this world. How does one deal with such overwhelming worthiness? I'm like a modern day Midas, everything I touch blooms and turns into gold, or into a delicious cake!

Baking is such an ego trip :-)

If I had known mixing some flour and eggs and other otherwise boring articles together and putting it in the oven could bring one so much pleasure I would've studied baking in college. It would've been more gratifying than cutting open dead frogs and rats.

This is my first ever attempt at baking. I was already consoling myself before I got started. "Baking is hard and it's your first time so don't take it too personally if your cake comes out looking like a lump of charcoal" I told myself.

But voila! It didn't look like charcoal, and it tasted really really really good! :) (If you're my Facebook friend, you're already sick of these pictures because I plaster my wall with them). Anyway, pretty good for a first timer don't you think? Especially since my cook book was really undecipherable (ounces, grams..ugh!) so most of it was pretty much based on hunch work.

Well what I really aimed for was a Victoria sponge cake. I didn't have whipped cream so it falls short of the ideal VSC image wise, but my friends did not complain.


It's times like these that I really wish that I have the family here. Cooking is only fun when there are people to eat and appreciate it. I can happily slave all day in the kitchen just to hear people tell me how good my roast chicken was, and how full their tummies are and hear them tell me days later that they still dream of my prawn curry. And here there's only so much I and the two weight-watching roomies can eat.

Well, if anyone feels like cake, call me! :-)