This morning as I was baking and preparing desserts for a MOPS event at my home, I found myself one cookie sheet short. I know I have three, but where is the third one? After looking around in all the cabinets (in case it just got put away in the wrong place) and in the camper (in case it was used during the boys' camping weekend) I surmised that Jörg must have decided it was too gross and thrown it away. I guess that's okay...two should be enough.
Preheat oven to 375...done. Put the cheesecake in the oven, but wait...what's that? There's a cookie sheet in my oven and there are little black blobs sizzling on that cookie sheet. Slowly it comes back to me...those little blobs are veggie balls that I had warmed up for a dinner one evening (about a week ago), but (clearly) had forgotten to take out of the oven. I thought that dinner seemed incomplete somehow.
Anyway, I cleared away the now overcooked and dried out veggie balls, put my cheesecakes in the oven and things are moving right along.
Speaking of moving right along, I had better get back to work.
2 comments:
This is one of those red flag moments when you should seriously comtemplate how you are going to combate turning 40 next year. Then you can advise me oh wise (and older than me) sister.
Pam
I figure there is no combat to turning 40...it's just going to win. It has been sneaking up on me for about ten years now; ever since I turned 30. I figure if my cookie sheets can survive being abandon in the oven, turning 40 should be a piece of cake (let that be a warning to the cake pans).
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