Baking Disasters

It all began when I twisted my ankle.

Twisted ankle meant a bit of pain and the need to RICE. Which meant I stayed home instead of going out to volunteer with Girls on the Run.  Which meant that I decided to bake something for the dinner tomorrow with my friends, since I could throw something in the oven really quickly and not worry about it tomorrow.

Okay, so it's not exactly fair to blame the TERRIBLE MISHAP upon a silly twisted ankle (which seems to be feeling better, but it might just be that the overriding pain of my wrist is...well, I'm getting ahead of myself).  Anyway, usually if one crazy thing happens to me, it probably means I should watch out.*

All right, I hear you: on with the story. So I decided to make a tart.  It was going to be delicious.  The crust would be gluten free and made of almonds and butter, the filling a luscious lemony goodness.  Thinly sliced lemons macerated in sugar on a bed of toasty almonds.  Delight!

Mishap #1: I was following a paleo recipe that called for nuts, butter, salt, and baking soda.  Not thinking about the filling, I put all that together and put it in the oven to bake a bit.  Then I dumped the lemon filling on it, with all the sugar and juices.  Now, what happens if you mix baking soda and lemon juice? If you guessed it, you'll now imagine foamy almond crust, some of it dripping onto the oven floor.

Well, it'll probably still taste good, Lance and I commented to each other.  I'll top it with tons of whipped cream and no one will notice how ugly it is, I added.

Mishap #2: time to take the tart out of the oven.  So I grab it without first setting out a cooling rack.

And here's with the TERRIBLEness happened:

Mishap #3: I shift the tart to one hand, meaning that the middle was on my hand and the ring was suddenly supported.  The searing pain in my wrist quickly alerted me to my major mistake, leading to

Mishap #4: In which the excruciating pain of metal and hot sugary liquid burning into my wrist causes me to throw down the tart, scream obscenity, and run away.  Lance makes me come back and put my wrist under cold, running waters, after I've removed my watch and flung it away.

We look back at the tart, which came through someone whole, though slightly mangled.  So we ate a bit of it.  It was actually not bad, despite how awful it looks and much pain it caused me.

*And today is 13+13, right? (the 26th?) Though it's not a Friday, so I'm not sure if that matters.