In Which We Haiku

Toilet is a film
It was made by Japanese
Made in Canada



Toilet is a cake
This cake looks like a toilet
A Japanese one



Ganache is in there
That makes cake even better
Monkey, monkey, cheese




The crew eats the cake!
The villagers rejoice! Yell!
Godzilla stays back.




Massacre! Cake! Kill!
Mothra has come! Run! Run! Far!
I want some gyoza

In Which Auld Acquaintance Shall Be Forgot

All ye wee ladies and lassies best raise a glass to Scotland’s favorite son, Robbie Burrrrrrrrrrrrns.

Oh, sorry, that’s Robbie Burns.

What better excuse than Robbie Burns day to make a traditional Scottish Cake?

What apparently makes it Scottish is that it contains honey and whiskey.What really makes it Scottish is that we make it while drunk and listening to The Proclaimers.

But, as you’ll see from the following timeline, alcohol has absolutely no impact on our ability to bake.

3:00pm: Plan to make extremely traditional Scottish Whiskey and Honey cake. Begin with traditional adding of wet ingredients to dry ingredients. First, should taste key wet ingredient to ensure high quality. All other ingredients indubitably fine.

3:15: Where the hell did that whiskey go? I have to go get more, some asshole drunk it all, I’ll be right back.

3:16 WHERE THE HELL ARE MY KEYS? YOU TOOK THEM, DIDN’T YOU? DIDN’T YOU!?

3:18 Oh, here they are. Ok, nobody bake without me!

3:40 Home! I fell once. Better taste this new whiskey. Wouldn’t want it to compromisse cake’s integ78ity. Man, I love the Proclaimers.

3:45 Turn the Proclaimers off, for the love of God, or I will cut you. Into your oven, mildly spicy and apple-y smelling cake. Why is there whiskey, AND orange juice, AND coffee in you? You better be delicious, cake, or you are in for a world of pain. I feels like fighting.

4:30 This looks terrible. I’m terrible. Everything sucks. The only friend I have is you, empty bottle of gin.

4:31 Oh, the oven wasn’t on. Ok, I am supposed to leave you in until fifteen past whiskey, drinky cake.

4:45 I don’t know why people always go on about alcohol. Everything is ferpectly nine. I dake better while brunk. Little pixies circling my head anxious to eat magic cake.

5:15 Oooooh. Time to dress this little Scot up.

The type of tartan you use indicates what clan you are from in Scotland.

I am from the MacYummy clan. We are well known for our round physiques and general surliness before noon. We conquered hunger in the Battle of Denny’s, but it’s not very well documented because most of us fell asleep immediately after.

We are a proud, if pudgy people, banished to the Scottish moors after we embarrassed ourselves by eating that entire can of icing in one sitting.

7:00 Now, to attend a civilized gathering of fellow scholars looking to celebrate the birth of one of poetry’s greatest. Will no doubt be stimulating and enriching affair. Looking forward to discussing scansion and meter whilst listening to concertos on the victrola. Have had perfect amount of alcohol to feel socially lubricated but still charming and in control.

(SCENE MISSING)

8:00 WE SHOULD ALL GO SWIMMING RIGHT NOW!

8:10 An’ then this guy shows up. Who the hell is this guy? You show up here, lookin’ at mee wif yer eyes in yer face, and you just….hey, where’d you get that cake?

8:15 Long live Scotland and all zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz………………….

In Which We Begin Anew

Less suck, more luck in 2010!










Final words?
Yes.

In Which We Will Be Good, For Goodness Cake

(Ahem)

Deck-orate your cakes with icing
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Make them look nice and enticing
Fa la la la, la la la la.



Force them on your friends and neighbours.
Fa la la, la la la, la la la.
Cry if they refuse your labours.
Fa la la la la, la la la la!



If the season has you cringing,
Fa la la la, la la la la.



Deal with that through constant binging.
Fa la la la la, la la la la.



If your cake looks quite despondent
Fa la la, la la la, la la la.



Cover that shit up with fondant.
Fa la la la la, la la la laaaaaaaaaaaaa!

And… It’s not just the season of the diabetic coma. It’s also the season of forgiveness. This means that if you make an abortion of a cake ruining one of the holidays’ most beloved characters (to protect the innocent, we’ll just call him Budolph), Jesus will forgive you.



He won’t be happy about it, but He’ll let this one slide.

God bless us, everyone.

In Which We Yell, Peppermint! Hark!

Oh wait. Peppermint Bark.

You may have noticed that this is not cake. But in the spirit of Christmas we decided to show compassion to other Christmas treats. Peppermint Bark is delicious all year round, but if you pull out a hunk of it in June, your friends will all know that those candy canes have been sitting in your pantry for six months. That’s right, they’re onto you. Lucky for us it is Christmas time! Hark! The bark cometh!

Chocolate. Yes.



If this doesn’t turn you on a little you may be reading the wrong blog.



SMASH!



This step is the main difference between Peppermint Bark and regular tree bark.




SMASH SMASH!



Fin.

In Which We Find The True Meaning Of Christmas

And lo, the angel of the flour appeared before them, and the glory of the sugar shone around them, and they were sore afraid. But mostly hungry.



And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold.



I bring you tidings of great flavor, which shall be to all people, if you properly combine the ingredients and bake at 375 degrees.



For unto you is baked this day in the city of Hogtown a series of Christmas cakes which belittle this most beautiful and sacred of holidays.



And this shall be a sign unto you: ye shall find dragees, which are actually quite difficult to come by.



And I command thee to crush candy canes into buttercream icing, and cover it with chocolate ganache, creating a holy trinity of Christmas flavors. And when our powers combine, we become Captain Planet. No…wait. Ok, forget that last bit. Just make a holy Christmas trinity.



And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising cake and saying:



Glory to eggs in the highest, and on earth good cake toward girls.

In Which We Grow Older

The only reason it is acceptable to become a year older is because it is tradition to mark this horrendous occasion with a delicious cake. Birthdays, the reason cake became a celebrity.

On particularly shocking milestone birthdays, the only way to seek consolation is in a cake so absurd it ceases to make any sense at all. There is neither rhyme nor reason. There is neither here nor there. There is just cake. This cake.



Happy 25th birthday… You poor bastard.



Cake is the ruler of all brunch. He sits on his throne, mocking his subjects.



Looks like mangled carcass. Just like the soul after 25 years.

So delicious. So melancholy.
We can't outrun time (especially after eating cake.)