Last night.
Maj asks me if she can make cookies.
Go Maj!
She wants to make meringue cookies.
Yay!
And then . . .
“Mother! It’s not working and I need your help!”
Sigh.
I head into the kitchen.
I see Maj furiously mixing egg whites with a soup spoon.
Seriously?
“Maj, no way you are going to get those egg whites to a soft peak with a spoon. You need the electric beater.”
Maj is breathless with the effort of spooning egg whites in a speedy circle, “How was I supposed to know that?”
I glance down at the recipe, “Ummm . . . says here to beat for 3 minutes at medium-high speed.”
Maj whirls the eggs around the bowl, “I am, Mother. This is me beating them at medium-high speed.”
“They mean a hand-held mixer, Maj. You have to get them all whipped up with air.”
“They need to be more specific. No way I could have known that.”
She gets out the beater and hands it to me, “You do it. My arms are exhausted.”
Yes . . . because that was so me a few minutes ago, asking to make cookies.
Annoying.
So I start beating the eggs. They are already tired, these eggs.
The bottom of the bowl feels cold, “Hey, Maj? Did you let these egg whites warm to room temperature?”
“What kind of ridiculous question is that?”
I point with a finger at the part of the recipe that says, “Warm egg whites to room temperature.”
Maj looks from the recipe up to me, “Is that important?
“Not that much to the recipe, Maj. Weird they would include extra directions, don’t you think?”
I turn the beater a little higher. The eggs are very tired.
These are the last eggs, in case you are wondering.
I beat them for a while longer and finally get them to approach something like soft peaks.
I speak over the sound of the beater, “OK, so add the sugar . . . .”
Maj turns and dumps a bowl of sugar into the egg whites in one swift movement.
“ . . . a little bit at a time,” I finish.
Maj is annoyed, “What does it matter?”
“Read the recipe, Maj.”
Maj reads the recipe.
Turns out it matters.
I continue to beat the eggs and sugar, but it is not looking good. The whole mess has sunk to the bottom of the bowl in a smooth silky thick cream. Nothing about this says meringue.
I focus on the task at hand, trying to will some fluffy life into these egg whites. Stiffen, damn you! Stiffen! I will beat the shit out of you . . . stiffen!
The eggs are not so inclined.
I continue to beat the eggs and curse them silently. I try to imagine if something edible would result from just pouring this un-meringuey mixture into a cake pan and baking it for a while.
Meanwhile, Maj moves frenetically about the kitchen and screams at me about how the recipe calls for a sifter. She needs to add the cocoa powder with a sifter and she has no idea what a sifter is and so she will just dump the cocoa powder into the meringue, because a sifter does not seem that important. Except apparently all of the directions are important which is just insane because who cares what temperature the eggs are or whether you use a spoon to stir them? Cooking is insane! INSANE!
Maj turns to me and yells over the sound of the beater, “I don’t even know what YOU are doing here, Mother! I told you I wanted to make these cookies by myself. You just cannot stay out of my business, can you?”
I turn off the beater and stare at her, “Just for that, sassy butthead you? Just for that, you will need to ask your sister where we keep the sifter, because I am not even helping.”
Maj screams for Kallan, “WHERE IS THE SIFTER? WHAT IS A SIFTER?”
Kallan comes gallivanting into the kitchen, opens the proper cupboard, pulls out the small sifter, and hands it to her sister, “Here, Maj.”
Maj yanks the sifter from Kallan’s hand and screams again, “GET OUT OF HERE! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? I WANT TO MAKE COOKIES BY MYSELF!”
And then she bonks Kallan on the head with the sifter.
A sifter is not a deadly weapon, but Kallan crumples to the floor in dramatic agony.
Dramatic agony involves a lot of screaming.
Maj nudges her dying sister unkindly with her foot as she approaches me with the sifter.
More screaming.
I turn off the beater again, “Maj, apologize to your sister. And Kallan? Get up . . . you are not injured.”
Kallan stands, but continues to wail.
Maj does not apologize and instead yells at me about how apologies are not required.
And then?
I am just done.
I carry the bowl to the sink and dump the contents down the garbage disposal, “OK, that’s it. I’m done trying to make this work. We will do cookies another time. Make a note, Maj . . . this did not go well.”
Maj stares at me in open-mouthed incredulity.
And then?
She turns and hurls herself at Kallan, wrapping Kallan in a bear hug and squeezing Kallan as hard as she can as she screams about how this is all Kallan’s fault.
Kallan is not injured, but she is alarmed.
I have to unwrap Maj from her sister.
Maj is all breathless with rage. Not willing to calm down. Not willing to apologize. Not willing to take responsibility for any part of this mess.
I send her to bed.
I head up a little while later to talk to her.
She is sheepish.
“Cooking is not my best thing, Mother.”
“You think?”
“Also? The sound of the beater scrambles my thoughts. I can’t think when the beater is buzzing.”
“So next time maybe a whisk?”
“Yes, that would be better, Mother. Thank you.”
Sigh.
awe.
I can only imagine Maj beating the egg whites at med-high speed. That…is awesome. And very impressive!
Sigh.
Yes . . . awe.
Let’s go with that.
Snort!
I’ll send my 11 year old over to teach Maj how to cook. After I stop laughing of course.
Carolyn -
Kallan is an AWESOME cook. Just awesome.
Maj gets annoyed. And then flustered. And then pissed.
And then it’s all downhill from there.
Snort!
Poor Maj.. baking and cooking are hard, I find myself having lots of issues with them. We do not get along at all.
yet, I’m giggling because it’s so cute. she’s so cute!
Cristina -
She is very very cute . . . and the fact that she knows that the background noise of the beater was part of the problem?
That just kills me.
I know that about Maj.
Sigh.
I should have been paying less attention to the eggs and more attention to Maj’s tension.
You handled that with infinitely more grace than I could have mustered.
They do not know how lucky they are.
Renee -
No . . . no one around here seems to feel especially lucky.
Annoying.
Now I want some meringue cookies!! I have never had them, but they sound good!
Danielle -
They are so yummy.
So yummy.
And really easy to make if you are not Maj.
Ahem.
Is there something wrong with me that the line which broke the dam holding back my laughter was, “Kallan is not injured, but she is alarmed.” Because that did it.
I used to mix brownies on medium-high speed by hand when I was a kid all the time. Drove my mom crazy…but not crazy enough to come help me pull out the mixer.
Tracie -
Maj is not so much about injuring her sister, but she was squeezing her like a tube of toothpaste. So much anger and frustration. Kallan was all giggly when she was finally released, which of course only infuriated Maj more.
Geez.
I’ve heard that eggs are good for hair and skin. hehe Maj is lucky the batter went down the drain, in my opinion. Hehehehe
I have to say, for all the need for order Maj has? I’m really shocked that she has such trouble with recipes. They are all specific & spelled out. I would think she would like that. Interesting.
I tend to “wing” and “eyeball” many of my recipes. Which is probably why I don’t do things like Meringue. That & I have this thing about failing. Makes me a little stabby. Ahem.
I think Maj would do much better in the kitchen if recipes were presented in temporal order. She gets flustered by the fact that half-way through the recipe, she is informed that that eggs should be at room temperature. Focuses on that detail and forgets to pay attention to what comes next.
She needs to learn to read the whole recipe and then plan it out in her head.
And if ANY adjustment needs to be made?
And substitution?
She gets REALLY stressed.
And if it doesn’t work out?
Stabby.
Definitely stabby.
“stiffen damn you! Stiffen!”
Snort!
This could have gone a whole other direction if that had been the title.
You would think following recipes to the exact details would be Maj’s thing. Alas, I fear you may have to make your own cookies in future.
Toni -
Hee hee!
I didn’t go another direction, because it turned out I needed all of my allotted words to tell this story.
But I thought about it.
I so did.
LOL! This reminds me of the dog’s reaction to a vacuum cleaner.
And you yelling at inanimate objects to stiffen? Priceless.
Have you seen your numbers today lady? I should have asked for a higher goal. Except not because those 4-5 hours of getting people to like your link probably gave me some gray hairs.
I am way too excitable. Snort!
Stiffen!!!
that is hilarious
yes yes the urgency and manicness of the post reminds me of a dog and vacuum cleaner too.
Hi Amy! (waving)
Amy
oops sorry for the hijack kris
i am very bad today
Hijacking Amy?
Ben will tell us.
I will boss him. He sometimes does as I ask. And I did write him a short naked-woman-on-a-horse story yesterday.
He owes me.
*Waves back!* Hijack away!
Good lord.
Do not encourage her.
Snort!
Amy W?
I just checked, and we are at 774! That is so awesome.
YAY!
I hope these folks are not the sort to be easily offended . . . not every day will be a lovely mostly G-rated cooking post.
Just saying.
Ahem.
Not going to lie, some of them are. But I figure they can just skip those posts and focus on the g-rated funny lol!
I am all giggly over here.
Your job was to bring them over to see me.
I may annoy some of them.
That has happened before.
Hee hee!
That was so funny. I did not know you could have such fun in the kitchen. I had sons and they were too manly (lazy) to learn to cook, so I can’t relate to your dramatic adventure. But it sure was funny!!!
Theresa -
Seriously, next time?
A whisk.
And Whiskey.
Snort!
Ahhh this is a nice G rated post I can read to Ben (my son, the almost 11 year old). He loves hearing about Kallan.
It is my experience that when you yell at things to:
STIFFEN STIFFEN damn you –
it tends to prohibit the stiffening process.
ahem
heeeeeeeeee
PS Can you please make Ben (-Blogger Ben–) tell me what songs he sings when he karaokes? It is driving me crazy
thanks so very much in advance for your help, as I know if anyone can get information out of a commenter it is YOU KRIS YOU!!
um…much love?
that is all
Amy -
Oops . . . answered your request for Ben information in the comment I left you just above.
And I am not always G-Rated.
As you well fucking know.
I am reassuring the new readers . . . lulling them.
Hush.
I read this part out of context:
Stiffen, damn you! Stiffen! I will beat the shit out of you . . . stiffen!
And it was awesome.
Never had meringue cookies before. My favorite cupcake frosting recipe requires beating egg whites until they are glossy however. I cannot even imagine doing it by hand… I think it’s impossible.
Generally though? Like for making cakes or brownies or non-meringue cookie dough? I am a huge fan of doing it by hand. I cannot be bothered with locating the mixer and it’s little attach-y parts. Pft. Those are a bitch to wash.
Haven -
I did think about making that the title (as was suggested above), but I try not to swear in titles.
Really! In my posts, I swear a lot, but not in my titles.
Mark bossed me.
And I so want a cookie.
Children are annoying.
Make a note, Haven.
They so are.
After reading this I decided I wanted to make meringue cookies.
I love all the pretty pictures and detail recipes from “cooking blogs” have so whenever I am searching for a recipe I like to search with Google’s “blog” search.
Anyways. Blog searched “meringue cookies” and your post was result number 4.
No recipe. Or pictures. Just beating and no stiffening. So misleading.
Is that true?
That is beyond fabulous.
YAY!
I am a cooking superstar!
Able to stiffen things with a single hand!
Wait . . . what?
It is true! Yay!
Google totally knows you Kris. You are all notable now.
I WILL SOON RULE THE WORLD!
What?
*Anxiously awaits the next Haven post*
Ahhem.
Also?
Haven needs to link her blog to her avatar.
Get on that, Haven.
Your readers have spoken.
Ahem. :)
YAY!
agreed!! :)
Baking is hard. It really is. All the directions must be followed precisely. Which is also hard…for those of us that are impatient. I’ve learned to love it. But I’ve sent many things down the garbage disposal. And I’ve shed many a tear over cookies that did not turn out because I didn’t follow the directions properly. Poor Maj.
Shana -
Exactly. Maj likes everything to go perfectly.
When even a small thing goes badly? Huge tension.
And then she gets impatient with herself and frustrated with the situation . . . and she gets really crabby.
And then noises in the background freak her out.
Sigh.
“Stiffen, damn you! Stiffen! I will beat the shit out of you . . . stiffen!”
Best part of the whole thing, next to Maj alarming Kallan with that ‘hug’.
Whitney -
My favorite thing?
Maj’s words . . .”Cooking is not my best thing, Mother.”
Snort!
She kills me.
I’m confused.
Why are the eggs tired? Where did they fly in from? Or was it a long labor?
Mr. Moooooog -
You and your turkeys are ridiculous.
Me
Or maybe you know something I don’t know . . .
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