First, i have to preface the following post by saying that Dr. L. is an amazing cook. Just last weekend she had some of us over for the most amazing fajitas. On numerous other occassions i've had the opportunity to enjoy her stir fry, pasta, and other culinary delights which she seems to whip up effortlessly, but nonetheless are tasty wonderful.
Mad cooking skills notwithstanding, Dr. L. has never learned to bake. By her own account, every baking experience has mostly consisted of someone handing her a pre-measured amount of flour, sugar, vanilla, etc. and letting her put it in the bowl—you know, kind of like your mom or tia did when you were like five. Sometimes they even let her crack an egg or two into the bowl.
Dr. L decided it was time to change this, and since she had lots of zucchini from her garden and a craving for Dr. B's Superaddicting Spicy Chocolate Z-Bread (a favorite of the superamigas support crew) she requested that we get together and bake.
And bake we did (and eat, and laugh, and talk a lot, i mean a lot, about tomatoes).
Katydid extolling the slightly acidic, but deep tones of the Black Krim Tomato.
Katydid also made a tasty chickpea soup while Dr. L was working on the Z-bread.
Yes, Dr. L wasn't satisfied making just two of loafs of Z-bread. She wanted to make one for everyone she knows in SLC, so we decided to triple the recipe. For those of you who like math, this may not be much of a task, but for those of us who still have to use our fingers to count, this is no easy feat. And when you are doubling or tripling a recipe you have to, GASP, add fractions!! Ironically, however, it was not the fractions that almost caused an immense gastronomic disaster, but rather just a simple multiplication (3x2, by the way, equals 6, not 3).
Dr. L calculating fractions.
Katydid adding on her fingers.
As Dr. L finished mixing up the batter and was getting ready to pour it into the baking pans and put it in the oven I decided to take a little look. "Hmm, this seems a bit runny," i said to myself.
"How many cups of flour did you add?" i asked Dr. L.
"Three," was her earnest response.
"How many does the recipe call for?" I asked.
She checked the recipe: "two."
"And so if we're tripling the recipe, how many do we need to add?"
Dr. L started counting on her fingers, "oh, six," she proudly reported.
The satisfaction with her keen math skills quickly turned to horrow, however, as she realized her mistake.
"oops!" she laughed.
We quickly remedied the situation, put the Z-bread in the oven, and sat down to a tasty dinner while the bread cooked.
Dr. L and Katydid really liked the food! I mean, they really liked the food! Look at Katydid, she broke out into song she was so happy.
It is still a mystery to me, however, why Katydid bought canned, stewed tomatoes for her soup, when right in the backyard garden we had access to numerous varieties of fresh, organic, heirloom tomatoes.
In the end, the Z-bread was a great success. I ate the loaf that Dr. L left me in just two days. I know Katydid was using it to motivate and reward herself while she was trying to write and made herself sick by eating so much. I think she got to the point where she was rewarding herself with one bite after each complete sentence she finished. And Dr. Beto just asked me for the recipe so i think he must've liked it too.