Thumbs Up for Hockey Pucks and Knife Skills!

15 Dec


As you can see this week has been a bit of a doozy. This is me, in the emergency room this morning, having my thumb stitched back together, on our way out to a family xmas party.

Last weekend we (very excitedly) ordered a new oven (our old one died, but that is a whole other story) and then we went about organising the various trades people we needed this week. We organised for the old oven to be picked up on the Thursday and my new oven to be connected on the Friday.

This week then started out as any other. I went to work (at my “real” day job) and did my thing there. I experimented in the kitchen when I had the time. I got 2 orders for cupcakes and happily accepted them. They were to be picked up on Friday morning. Problem – can you see what I did there? I didn’t.

So, on Tuesday, when I had finally realised that I had promised dozens of cupcakes to people, LITERALLY without an oven to cook them in, I arranged with lovely friends who live close by that on Thursday afternoon I would bring trays of raw cupcake batter to their home and I would cook them there. Fine and dandy, I thought. Except that it wasn’t. I rushed home from work, threw a very-much-tried and tested vanilla cupcakes recipe together (I’ll post it separately soon) and dashed over to their place.

The cupcakes didn’t rise. They resembled sad flat little hockey pucks. I assumed it was simply working with a different oven that threw me and I didn’t think much of it. I put them in the car and drove my hockey pucks home. About an hour later it was still bothering me, and on a closer check of the recipe it was obvious that I had, in my haste, used plain flour instead of self raising. Whoops.

Cut to me at dinner time, now remaking the cupcake batter again, and driving it this time to my husband’s parent’s house (not wanting to stretch the friendship of my lovely people at the original bakehouse) only to make my father in law sad because there were no extra cakes to share with him. The poor dear. šŸ™‚ But hazzahh they cupcakes rose and I was pleased that I had bothered to do them again.


The one on the left is batch one, made with plain flour versus the one one the right from batch two, made with self raising flour. A nice comparison photo, since we are talking about it anyway. šŸ™‚ And here is a dodgy photo of one lot of the final products.


So after all that, today I decided that, not being quite ready to use my new oven, that I would make an “non-cooked” goodie for the family xmas party. You all have probably seen, heard of or eaten the classic: Spinach Dip in Bread. It’s delicious and so ridiculously easy, but based on how this week in the kitchen had been going I should have known better. And you have seen the resulting photo above. Bread knife 1: Sam 0.

So, there is me, calmly packing icepacks around semi-prepared food in the boot of the car, while holding my strapped severed thumb above my head, telling my poor stressed hubby that we will drop past the medical centre for stitches on the way to his family lunch. šŸ™‚ See, this is why I like baking. Less knives in baking.

But the dip I made for lunch was a success (I’ll post it up on it’s own soon) and the stitches come out in a week. So alls well, that ends well? šŸ™‚ Yeap…


3 Responses to “Thumbs Up for Hockey Pucks and Knife Skills!”

  1. Replicator Lisa (@Replicator_Lisa) December 15, 2012 at 11:59 am #

    Yikes Sam! So this is the kind of action we miss when we skip family gatherings? It makes for good hyper-manic blog storytelling though šŸ˜‰ You just need to read it real fast.
    Hope your hand doesn’t hurt too much.

  2. elizabeth allanson December 15, 2012 at 8:02 pm #


  3. smeema December 15, 2012 at 10:18 pm #

    I was cutting a loaf of fresh bread (for dipping in the spinach dip), was careless and cut halfway through the end of my thumb instead. This picture makes it look so much worse than it is. Even the nurse who wrapped me up said it was a bit of overkill to use the whole bandage. I really am fine though. šŸ™‚ Thanks for your concern. šŸ™‚

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