I ate a bit too much last night, and didn't feel hungry until late morning when Beth turned up ready to go for a walk. Luckily, she brought me a small box of cupcakes, so I had one for breakfast. Her sister made them last night, and by Beth's account was reluctant to let me at them. Because I'm a food critic, and so obviously I was going to take a nibble, swish it around my mouth, and spit it out going "Peh! No icing! Been in the oven too long! Too grainy! Depart from me, vile scum!" Since Belinda did much the same thing on Friday with her date scones (Underbaked! Chunks of date too large!), I can only assume that I must have undergone some massive Jekyll and Hyde like personality disorder.
No longer can I accept a scone or a cake from a friend. Apparently, I transform into a giant green monster, rip off my shirt, and scream "YOU SUCK! CRITIC SMASH!!" Then I awake with no memory of the event. It's the Canberra Times that did it. Mysterious vibes from printers ink, when seen in the shape of my actual name, have fizzed and bubbled like a kryptonite radioactive spider accident in my brain. Never mind that the editor picked me to be a sort of average punter type, with a bit of a track record of writing as seen here. Never mind that I'm a mere casual fill-in while the regular is overseas. Never mind that I have zero cheffy professional training, and have always loved to chat about food and cooking techniques. Publication has created a monster. Stand back!
PS. The reviews, since they did seem to insist so.
1. Belinda's Date Scones
OM NOM nom nom nom (yes, the dates are actually a bit big, if you want the scone to not fall apart) nom nom nom what?
2. Kimbla's Cupcakes
Ace! Thanks heaps! I'd better freeze some, so I don't eat them all at once.