I promised you a kitchen disaster and I’m ready to deliver. Let me set the scene for you...
It was a sunny Monday morning and the perfume of blood orange walnut bread was permeating the entire kitchen. Jazz accompanied my concentration as I smiled to myself and snapped some shots of the loaf. I realized at one point that the back side needed just a tad more light. I grabbed a giant tome off my cookbook shelf, which just so happens to be white, perfect for reflecting! Positioning it just so and scooting myself super close to my subject, poising my Canon on a tripod (aka, upturned bowl) a slow scratching came from the cookbook shelf.
I turned my head slowly, in that Hollywood style when a person has a T-rex breathing down their neck, when I saw the cookbooks slowly siding down the shelf and heading directly for a bottle of wine and all of our wine glasses. "Oh no, no, no," I yelled, covering my eyes at the last instant when an explosion of sound crashed onto the countertop and to the floor, gorgeous white wine splattering my face and glass spewing everywhere, in the living room, on every shelf, in the sink, under the fridge, in every nook and cranny of my tiled surfaces.
“Oh. God.” was all I could muster as I stood there for a good thirty seconds counting the casualties. Six wine glasses and one bottle of Castel del Monte Chardonnay were lost. As the wine dripped and I tried to think of a plan, it was like being trapped in a lava pit, with glass and wine everywhere but a perfectly good loaf cake right in front of me. I’m just going to stay honest here, folks, and tell you that I stood there for another minute or so and calmly ate a slice.
I mean, in the midst of doomsday in your kitchen, you need to just take a second and eat a piece of cake.