(Semi) Permanent Scars and the 9-Minute Cake

It's true, I am no baker. I don't have the time nor talent to create an meticulous masterpiece of edible art but dang it, do I know what a good cupcake tastes like. I'm a conesseur or carbs, you might say. Generally, I don't stray away from Betty Crocker in the rare event that I do decide to bake up something sweet. Two eggs, a cup of milk, some butter, and a little bit of oil and you are golden (or yellow cake, hee hee). And icing is a whole other monster beast that I'm sure I would royally screw up. Things that are outside of my comfort zone make my stomach nervous which kind of ruins the carb eating enjoyment, you dig?

My mom bought me a fancy Pampered Chef rice cooker not too long ago and which is a rockstar dinner time saver. You just zap it in the microwave and instant poofy white rice. Delicious. But there is also a recipe for a 9-minute cake that can be made in the rice cooker. You can find the recipe here and lots of other places on the internet. I know it works and the cake is AMAZING because we successfully made one with my mom when she was visiting. So, doubters, this is legit.

I went to Aldi to grab groceries and I picked up a box of cake mix and frosting because I was all about to get my carb freak fix on. I got home and followed the instructions, dumping my chocolate cake mix and the can of fosting into the rice cooker and set the microwave for 9-minutes, anxious to go all sorts of dirty things to that cake when it was finished. I waiting patiently (as much as I could) for the microwave to ding and then I pulled out and popped it open only to be completely disappointed. The cake hadn't cooked AT ALL. It was kind of a (delicious) gooey-ish mess at the bottom. FAIL.

So what does one do when something isn't quite cooked all the way? I put it back in the microwave for 5 minutes. I figured that would be about enough time that there should be some decent cake action that would edible. You can imagine my shock and horror when I walked back into the kitchen only to find it full of smoke and reeking of burnt plastic. FAN-EFFING-FREAKING-TASTIC. It only got worse when I opened the door, a stream of cloudy black smoke poured out of the microwave waifing through the house. I managed to open the rice cooker top to assess the damage only to find a full on boil and charred plastic "caking" (how funny) inside of the cooker. I tried to put it outside to cool down but that didn't work fast enough so I thought I would douse it with water.

The smell, naturally, is gagworthy. So I'm trying to get as much of the "cake" down the drain that I can with my hands, including the giant chunks of char and uncooked dry mix. My hopes for cake and most of my pride were washed down that drain as well.

Sad day, indeed.

It wasn't until much later that I examined my hands that I noticed I may have accidently left myself with a permanent reminder of my big fat cake failure.



I have tried everything short of bleach and steel wool to get it off but it's not working. I have no idea how it happened! I've always joked about getting a tattoo of a potato to represent my love of carbs but this is kind of ridiculous. This is my scarlet letter to wear as a fatty, I guess. SIGH.