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0900 hours…‘Oohh… come on… brown sugar, how come you taste so good’… the last sounds echoing madly through his ears as his car is brought to a complete stop.
Mike forgoes the lift up to his lair and decides too work his legs by taking the stairs up 10 flights. As the door to the stair well closes behind him, a swell of heat engulfs him… making his blood almost ‘bubble’ and his pressure ‘rise’. The two-minute jaunt up feels more like 20. He exits to a rush of chilly air and fumbles for his keys into his entry security device.
Once inside, wasting no time, he enters his shadowy kitchen. ‘This is it …there’s no turning back’. He moves to the distant corner of the room and opens two cabinets that contain the gear that will hopefully help him reach his next culinary summit. Like a good mountain climber, he confirms he has the tools necessary for his ascent.
4l and 2l stainless steel mixing basins …check…. hand churn…check…12 crater mix depository…check…. early 80’s brunette Westinghouse range…check…. sifter …uncheck (sorry, my testosterone wouldn’t allow me to buy one)…mixing splotch…check…measuring beaker…check.
1 cup of buckwheat flour (type O and A) or Oat Flour (B, A
I cup of white spelt flour
2 ½ teaspoons of baking powder
½ teaspoon of salt
2 tablespoons of honey
¼ cup canola oil (B substitute butter)
1 egg, beaten
½ cup blueberries, fresh or frozen
Behind one last drawer lies the one element, which will Smack! confidence into his task…the baker’s cowl…the white apron. With it securely around his neck, Mike turns up his brunette’s heat to 350 degrees and like a good mechanic, he greases the mix depository. In the large basin, he carefully measures the ingredients with his beaker until the end when he Kapow(s)! the salt and Bam(s)! the baking powder into the bowl…’Watch out…that’s too much powder
In the small basin he whisks the wet ingredients and calmly combines the desiccated and the sopping components. Lastly he folds the little blueberry bombs into the mixture.
The craters are ready to be filled.
With his strong hands, he gently fills each cup to the top and transports his creation to the Westinghouse. Checking the timer on the stove, the clock set at 10:53 pm, he adjusts and sets it to go off in 20 minutes.
Tick, tock…tick tock…as the seconds pass, our apronned crusader sits patiently to await his ultimate fate. Will they come out as paperweights or as soggy nothings? Until next time.
Hey kids…the word ‘Bake” is secretly coded in todays blog…the first person who can figure out where or how it’s coded and emails me with the answer will win a free copy of CRFYBT (Cook Right for your Blood Type)…Good Luck