So I have just flexed my baking muscles after two and a half months living in hotel rooms without a kitchen. Couldn't be happier. I've been looking forward to making some fatty boom batty cake all day so much so that I stopped off at this cool baking shop on the way home to buy a new piping tool and spent £5.99 on a plunger type icing dream machine, lush. The whole time I was decorating the little things I couldn't believe that I had got by for so long without this tremendous piece of kit. The icing looked so friggin great by the end of the messy session that I know it doesn't matter if the thing actually tastes any good. "People will be proud to eat such a thing of beauty" I was telling myself in my brain's running commentry, "such a work of art- I should do this for a living"- hell yeah! In my mist of joy and blind self congratulation I failed to realise that the melted chocolate inside the tube had started to harden to the detriment of the plunger which i therefore managed to snap. Balls. I felt like such an idiot I nearly high-fived my own face. And now rather than keep it a secret Ive just written it on my blog. Balls x2. Yet, although 12 cupcakes have just cost me £5.99, the pleasure factor has been priceless. YUM YUM up yo bum.
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