I’ve figured it out, dear reader–a single recipe that yields the perfect bake. Every time. Without fail. It doesn’t matter what it is you want in the end: cookies, brownies, cake, a long and fufilling life–whatever. Just follow my instructions exactly.
I’m not the messiah, sweet reader–though call me whatever feels right to you. I’d also accept “hero” “idol” or “America’s Next Top Model.” I digress.
Because this recipe is more of a catch-all, there will be no list of ingredients. I shouldn’t have to do all the work for you, my dear, ill prepared reader. If you can’t figure this out on your own, The Recipe is not for you. There is no shame in admitting defeat–just stick to banana bread and mediocrity.
If you’ve successfully completed step 0, allow me to offer a hearty, only mostly sarcastic congratulations. Now let’s begin.
Step 1.
Go to the store in search of ingredients. Do not make a list–or do, but don’t bring it with you. Buy all you can remember writing down, plus some cereal and maybe a coke or pack of gum–but never both. You’re on a budget. Unpack ingredients onto kitchen counter, stove, table, or mostly dry sink. Preheat the oven. Realize you forgot eggs. Lament this loss. Laugh it off. Take a nap.
Step 2.
If it’s still light outside, go back to sleep for 45 more minutes. Do not set an alarm. If it is dark, rise in a panic and run to the kitchen, remembering the preheated oven. With humiliation and relief, realize you never pressed “start.” You are safe. But you are hungry. You preheat the oven for real this time.
Step 3.
Prepare dinner. Remember that box of cereal you bought earlier? That’s right. No milk? No problem. Hand to box to mouth. When jaw tires of crunching, pour yourself some wine and watch 4 episodes of Avatar. When the Fire Nation attacks for a fifteenth time, remember the oven. Panic, but only softly. Reenter the kitchen to find your roommates, who have turned off the oven. Laugh at your forgetfulness. Offer them some wine. Play a board game involving a timer. Laugh so hard you cry.
Step 4.
Feel hunger again–this time, slightly drunk hunger. Remember the planned bake, and tell your roommates about it. They offer you their eggs; you humbly accept. More wine all around. You remember the cereal–you snack.
Step 5.
You open up about your struggles and dreams with your roommates, and several friends via text (half of whom respond). You feel heard and understood. You all wipe tears from your eyes, and hug each other for the first time.
Step 6.
You lay in bed. Smiling into a restful, dreamless sleep. You know you didn’t leave the oven on. You didn’t even use it. You had also forgotten the flour.
Go on, dear reader. I believe in you.
Girl Seeking Peanut Butter 