A Disgrace to my Heritage…

I just made a pound cake; the mix came from a box.
My first conundrum arose when the ingredients for me to add were a “choice”; add milk OR water.
For God’s sakes, don’t screw with me, just tell me!
“Mo”, (eenie, meenie, miney, mo…) landed on milk, so that’s what I went with.
Two eggs later, a quick couple of minutes with the electric beater and voila’, my culinary masterpiece was ready for the hot oven.
Unfortunately though, when I went to put it in… my heart sunk. I’d never turned the oven on to warm it up! But what’s another 10 or 15 minute delay when the result will be pure buttery goodness with a hot cup of Joe.

Cooking time said “48 to 52 minutes”.
I was using a glass pan and could swear from past experience (and I use the term loosely) that glass meant lower temp. But in my defense, no where did that bitch Betty mention that on the box!
So into a 350 degree oven it went, and I set the timer for a mere 45 minutes.
You know me… always playing it safe!!!

Ok, in the spirit of full disclosure, there was one other tiny mishap.
I’ve blogged here before regarding my limited attention span.
About an hour after turning the oven on, I wondered why it kept “clicking”. Only then did I realize I’d forgotten to put the cake in. By this time the batter had (oddly) risen to about twice its original depth. This was my first inkling that maybe I should have gone with the water. Who knows?

WHO KNOWS???
I’ll tell you who knows… my Papa!!!
Francis Duddy owned and operated “Duddy’s Bakery” in Queens New York, from before my mother, her 6 sister’s and one brother were born, to not long before he died in the late 60’s.
From Grandma and Papa Duddy, I get my 50% Irish blood.
Duddy’s Bakery, the story is told (backed up by a torn and yellowed old newspaper article including a picture), used to have customers lined up around the block for one of their famous pies.
They offered all the goodies any bakery would, but Pies is what they were famous for.
I have never made a pie.

My 50% German veins also have incredible Baker knowledge and experience flowing through them.
My Oma, who baked the best damn Apfelkuchen and German Butter Cookies in the whole entire world…, is probably turning in her grave this morning at my lame attempt to bake!
From a BOX, no less!

To make a long and personally painful story short… yes, I burned it.
And then yes, I tried to salvage it by cutting the burnt ends, sides and bottom off.
Even then, it tasted somewhat like I would imagine a sponge to taste.
A clean one!
But in the end, I called it for what it was…
A complete and utter failure, as well as a disgrace to my family heritage.

I’ve still got my stinkin sweet-tooth, so I’m going out for a Ding-Dong now.
Sorry Oma and Papa.
But if it’s any consolation to you, your great-granddaughter is an awesome Baker… both kinds!