You know how people tell you to take a deep breath and sleep on it whenever you’re angry with someone? They say to write a note to the person, tuck it in a drawer, and decide in the morning if you’re going to send it or not. 99% of the time you wake up and realize it was a silly issue and you throw the letter away.

NOT THIS TIME. This is my letter. This is my letter to a certain recipe. A letter to a certain recipe in a certain cookbook that shall not be named. I don’t do well with kitchen failures. And I don’t do well with kitchen failures that are caused by poorly written recipes.

Phew. I feel better already.

Here’s the deal. My dad’s birthday was this past Sunday and I was SO excited to bake him a cake. A very very delicious chocolate fudge cake that he would love. I was particularly excited about baking him this cake as it seemed like forever since I’d been in the kitchen. I haven’t really been in the mood to cook lately (as you can tell from the lack of food posts on this blog). This cake was going to be my starting back. My entrance into the kitchen again.  Oh how foolish was I.

Like I said earlier, I am not good at kitchen failures. Which is one of the many reasons why I’m not a professional chef. I like to keep it safe and stick with recipes I know I can successfully cook.  So when I came across this easy sounding chocolate cake, I jumped on it! Thirty minutes later, the cake collapsed in the oven. 45 minutes later, I was cursing the kitchen gods while I pried the chocolate cake off the pans with a sharp knife. 55 minutes later, both cake pans met their demise in a sink full of warm dish water.

I can totally accept failures when they’re my fault (sometimes…). However, when a recipe fails because of typos, incorrect measurements, and lack of necessary detail, I do not accept my failure. I blame my failure. Again, this is why I’m not a professional chef.

Okay, my rant is over. I’m over it. Totally over it. I decided to clean the kitchen, put on my big girl pants, slap on some hot pink lipstick, and drive to the nearest grocery store to pick out the best dang cake a dad could ask for.

Here’s to kitchen failures and delicious, overly-sweetened grocery store cakes that always come to the rescue.

Natalie