August 19, 2010 § Leave a comment
In my previous post, I may have … slightly mentioned that my daughter wanted to make some chocolate pudding sundaes. Well, we made them (which surprised even me).
After being pestered for roughly a whole day, I bought the ingredients needed and set them out on the kitchen worktop. We got the recipe up on the laptop and read it as we went along.
First of all, we emptied all the ingredients into the bowls (I’m not the baking type of person, so I’ll admit to putting some of them in wine glasses and some in children’s dishes due to my lack of organisation), with Daughter staying well clear of the cocoa powder (“I don’t want it getting in my eyes!”).
I then started to chop up the chocolate, with Daughter complained about:
“Mum, what kind of chocolate is that?” she asked worriedly.
“So it goes milk, plain, dark?”
“No, plain is dark.”
“OH NO! I HATE DARK CHOCOLATE! I ONLY LIKE MILK CHOCOLATE!”
“Don’t panic! We’ve got loads of milk going in it anyway, haven’t we?”
After about 10 minutes of chopping up the chocolate finely, we mixed everything into a pan on the stove.
I turned up the gas and started whisking it.
“Come here and help me, then,” I said, whisking it so ferociously that Daughter was laughing her head off by the laptop.
She gingerly came forward, appearing by my side with fear and panic in her eyes.
“It’s not hard,” I said, handing her the whisk. “Hurry though, it says to whisk constantly!”
Daughter started whisking, keeping her bodily distance away from the oven at all times.
Every so often, Daughter would wake my mum up, who was snoozing in the living room, and tell her what was going on, and Mum would say “is it ready yet?”, follow her into the kitchen and wiping all the chocolate from the spatula with her finger, proceeding to lick it off.
It was taking forever.
“When’s it supposed to go thicker?” Daughter asked.
“Ages ago… how long do I do this for?”
“It says 8 minutes, but with an additional minute added on.”
“Okay… open the back door, would you? I’m roasting.”
“No, you’re not, you’re baking.”
When that charade was finally over, we covered the desserts (that were spooned into random beer glasses) with baking sheets (we didn’t have anything else… told you I was disorganised!) and left them to cool before putting them in the fridge to set for 3 hours.
All in all, it was an okay afternoon. It would have been better if Daughter hadn’t been worried about eating hers because I thought some plastic was lodged inside, due to the whipped cream malfunctioning. Still, she was okay 🙂