I have always loved Sunday nights! A full day of church and fellowship, teaching and singing, working toward that one day all week . . . and then you get to relax on Sunday evening. We had a good day today, with a missionary visiting with us. He is a Canadian who went to Ireland 20 years ago. He is home for a few weeks to visit his parents here in BC, so he scheduled some meetings during his visit. We had him for both services today. He preached this morning, then showed his presentation tonight and answered questions about the country of Ireland and his work in the city of Cork. Our folks enjoyed hearing him, and we enjoyed having him in our home for some fellowship this afternoon. He is a great joke-teller and loves sports, especially hockey, so he fit right in with our family and church family! ;)
I made a cake last night (you can see the recipe here), and I must say I don't think I've ever had so much trouble making a cake in my life! I was tired, for one thing. I hadn't had time all day to make the cake, so it was after supper before I started on it. I hate to make anything after supper is done. I want the kitchen to be closed after supper. So anyway, I get the cake in the oven, but before long it smells like something is burning. Then I remembered: the cake has this praline topping, which is in the bottom of the cake pan while it's baking. This praline stuff always bubbles up over the edges of the pans, and I had forgotten to put a pan underneath to catch the drips. I also didn't have an oven liner in - wouldn't you know it? So the goo, made of butter, cream, and brown sugar, dripped on the heating element and began smoking. Ok, so I put a cookie sheet under the pans to catch the drips. A couple of minutes later, smoke is billowing out of my oven! I opened the door . . . and saw a strange glow in the back corner of the oven - my oven was on fire! I did not panic. I grabbed a potholder and removed the pans, one at a time, with gooey cake threatening to bubble out of them; I then tossed some salt in the general direction of the flame, which was growing larger by the second. The salt didn't even come close to the flame with the top oven rack still in, so I pulled that out and threw in some baking soda. That worked . . . for about a second. The flame popped up again like one of those birthday candles that you can't blow out! So I threw another huge pile of baking soda in there, and this time the fire went out and stayed out. I put the rack back in, followed by the cakes and the baking sheet to catch any more drips. The oven continued to smoke (this time it was the baking sheet - the drips were burning), so I had to open the kitchen window and the front door. It was cold and rainy outside. It got cold in the house. All this time, no one realizes that the oven has been on fire; no one notices the smoke. When I told Wes about it later, he said, "Oh, is that what I smelled?" I think the house could have burnt down and no one would have noticed! I was never, ever so glad for a cake to be done as I was that one last night!
It all ended well . . . well, I take that back. It calls for whipped cream, the real kind that you have to whip yourself, not that edible oil product commonly referred to as whipped cream, so I whipped my cream this morning. It was beautiful, fluffy whipped cream. I was so anxious to put it on the cake this afternoon. I took the cream out of the fridge, stirred it a bit, plopped a spoonful on the cake . . . and it ran right down the side of my cake! The fluff had all gone out of my whipped cream! We ate it anyway (yes, I ate a tiny piece, and yes, my blood sugar went too high, so I won't eat any more of it, I promise), and it still tasted good. Sigh. I've never had this much trouble with a dessert.