My birthday carrot cake on Saturday had cream cheese frosting, which takes two sisters and a mother to make, you know...
Ann and Karen asked Mom (we were at her house) for powdered sugar, whereupon she went to the cupboard and produced a container of "powdered sugar." The girls sifted and mixed and blended and stirred, and sifted and blended some more, and the stuff just wasn't getting very smooth.
"Maybe the bowl is too small," said one of the sisters. Like that has ANYthing to do with anything except that little blips of "frosting" would fall over the edge and Karen, usually (the one wielding the mixer), would pop them into her mouth. It bears repeating that she did this repeatedly -- well, okay, two or three times (but that would mean that it was repetition at least once or twice).
Finally, Annie tasted one of the globs and declared, rather disgustedly, "Hey, this isn't sweet!" She grabbed that Tupperware container and turned it around to see the identifying label (because Mother's containers always have an identifier) and it said: CORNSTARCH. Huh, no wonder that frosting was kinda THICK!
Well, needless to say, there was a store run for butter and cream cheese and we heard (numerous times) all about how Grandma would have been SO upset at the waste of all that food. No doubt the amount of cornstarch wasted was equivalent to what one child would consume in a lifetime! I aplogize if anyone has to endure runny gravy over their mashed potatoes and stuffing this Thankgiving as a result of this careless and inappropriate use of a thickening agent.
Heh, anyway, the cake was DELICIOUS (I've blogged it two days in a row!) and I had several (yes, several) pieces of varying sizes over the weekend and sometimes I didn't even use a plate -- just grabbed my fork and dug right in.
Happy Birthday to Me!