Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Baking Adventures


Yesterday, I attempted my first King Cake.  If you don't know what that is, you can read about it here.  Some years, our friends from Baton Rouge would send us one, and we always enjoyed the tradition.  This year, I actually found one at the Giant.  It was ok, albeit slightly stale, but it lacked the highly coveted baby!  The children, of course, were distraught.  Besides, I knew that any King Cake I made would be a sight better than a crappy Giant cake.


Well, I must say that it turned out really well.  It smelled like heaven in my house, while it baked.  The taste is very comparable to Entenmann's cream cheese coffee cake, if you've ever had that.  It didn't occur to me until after I'd made the entire thing, that it had no cinnamon in it at all...unlike the other King Cakes I've eaten.  No matter, it was de-lish, and the kids were thrilled.  It required a special trip to the KKK.  That would be the area's finest cake/confectionary store, the Kake Kraft Korner.  We had to buy sugar in purple, green, and gold, and of course, the baby.  But, since I have more than one baby, I had to buy five plastic babies.  That alleviates the lamenting over not finding a baby in his or her slice.



So, today is hangover day in New Orleans.  While I don't really feel the need to be part of the Bourbon Street madness again, I would like to have participated in some of the festivities.  I love going to the parades, and would kill to get into one of the balls.  Not to mention the food...mmm.  Speaking of, I also made red beans & rice last week.  That, too, was quite tasty.  I followed Emeril's recipe almost exactly...without my normal elaborate tweaking.  What I didn't stop to consider were the gastric consequences of said glorious meal.  I mean, the gastric consequences of my dear husband.  I had the sense to eat small portions of the stuff, followed quickly by Gas-X.  He, on the other hand, porked out and proceeded to be quite musical (and hideously putrid) all evening.  For days.  Next time I decide to make it, I think I won't tell him.


I certainly have more to write, but my tired brain won't allow it, and my bed is calling me.  I hope you all are well this week.