Boogie Nights

"Ever wondered what it's like to live the dream, with damp elbows and a feint whiff of your close friend's toilet habits? This is a yachting blog with a difference, as we go on a journey of discovery, a journey of stupid ideas and ridiculous adventures. The daily commute will never look the same again."

bienvenu, hola, ciao!

27 November 2012

Storm? Piece of cake.

When I heard a decent storm was heading my way I checked all the lines, added a couple more springs and went shopping for extra provisions.
If I'm going to be kept awake all night with crashing, banging and Armageddon going on outside, then I should make best use of this extra awake time.

I ask myself, what would Thora Hird do?

Bake a cake surely?

Right on! Bake a bad ass fucking cake! What could possibly go wrong? I mean, I can do cakes right? I can certainly eat them well enough. But it's in the region of 20-25 years since I last baked one.
I've got an oven (no temperature gauge or control). I've got some gas in the bottle. I've got all the tools and ingredients... It's just logical following the instructions right?
My sister in law bought me the scales ages ago. So far they've mostly been used to work out postage fees for eBay!


The cake mix waiting in the tin as the oven warms up to whatever temperature that may be.


And then the white chocolate and cream topping caused a bit of a mess. It's not cold enough outside to set it properly, the fridge is switched off, so twas still a bit runny.

But.. the proof was in the tasting the next morning for breakfast.


And while the cake was basking in the glow of my expensively bottled Butane and rising in the oven I did flash card practice. As you do on a Saturday night in a force 10.

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