That my friends is the sounds of a 16 oz can of Murphy's Stout crashing to the floor and slowly exploding in my kitchen. Holden continues his experiments with gravity...
This round's score:
The Can After the Fact - notice the easy pour 'spout' now
deformed for perfect kitchen spraying action.
Tomorrow's St. Patty's Day, and even though we're not Irish (though Holden definitely has the skin-tone for it), somehow I created a new tradition last year by making Guinness Cupcakes.
The were kind of ridiculous.
The batter spilled all over the tops of the muffin tins and middles sunk so low that the only way to make them look remotely normal was to fill in three inches of frosting in the center. Danny loved them, and asked for them again (yeah, sure the alcohol bakes out). And being the agreeable and submissive wife that I am known and loved for, I obliged. Also, I'm kicking off a Raw Diet Week on Monday and of course dragging Danny along, so the man deserves a tall one: even if it is in cupcake format.
So the cupcakes?
I had Little Bits help me.
Besides his stellar performance in the "Irish Beer exploding all over my kitchen" bit, his contributions include:
Dumping Cocoa powder all over the counter.
Turning the cake flour box upside down, which later resulted in this:
He also managed to spoon teaspoons full of the sourcream-egg mixture on his chest (he was aiming for his mouth).
In Holden's defense, he is great at cracking eggs. I always let him do the first 'whack on the kitchen counter' and then I follow up with another, or just separate the shell and put it in the batter.
He's also super supportive and of what we're making. For example, yesterday we were making almond biscotti from scratch. I thought I completely had this recipe dialed; as it's been a go-to quick treat for the past month. But somehow I made the dreaded mistake of baking soda instead of baking powder... but every time Holden dipped his slimy mitts in my batter and licked his fingers he'd say, "MMMMMMMMMmmmmmMMMMMM." So the kid really knows how to lift my spirits. (I still ended up throwing out all 3 dozen, though... sad.)
But when he looks that great in a baker's hat, how could I ever think of being upset at him?
Regardless, I guess our St. Patty's day tradition is officially that...a tradition! I just hope next year comes without the beer explosions. Seems like they'd appreciate that more in Chicago or Boston.
Little Sample of Holden's maneuvers and way sweet kitchen skills.
Also, he gets some flour in his eye....
and yes, I have a problem closing my kitchen cupboards when I cook. I'm sure it stems from my relationship with my father, or something...
PS. Special thanks to my dear friend *Emily for hooking me up with the stout. She was making Irish Stew and had an extra can that saved me from buying more beer than I'd know what to do with.
*Names have been changed to protect the Mormon innocent... or have they?