I love Thanksgiving. It involves eating tons of food and then sprawling about, moaning and feeling absolutely massive – beautiful. This Thanksgiving I decided to make a chai cake. I simply dumped chai drink mix into a boxed white cake mix until I thought it tasted strong enough. I also bought a can of frosting, which I heated and subsequently flavored with more chai powder. I baked the cake in my new bundt pan, envisioning drizzling the frosting in a lovely manner… but it was too hot, too thin. It tasted great, but it was ugly as sin.
Anyway, I didn’t want to give up, so I cut the cake into chunks, threw it into a baking dish, poured a mixture of milk, eggs and brown sugar on top, made a brown sugar topping, and baked it into a chai cake pudding. There was also some oatmeal involved, though I can’t remember
However, I assure you it did not taste like excrement. It was wonderful and eggy and cinnamony and chai-ey and crunchy brown sugary. I had plenty to take home, and my roommate helped me get rid of it.
Disaster almost struck when my mother’s rolls didn’t turn out quite right. She always makes the softest, most delicious rolls for holidays, and after a good bit of time in the bread machine the dough was still looking ridiculously soft. My mum wanted to give up, but me and my sister volunteered to fix them. We poured the wet dough into a baking sheet lined with foil, spread it out and sprinkled garlic powder, parmesan and dill (I had to fight Randi – my sis – for the dill. She thought it was horribly inappropriate).
What we ended up making looked a bit like a foccaccia. We cut it into strips, like so. They were definitely yummy.
And – this is exciting – we found a pie my mom had forgotten to take once we got home. It’s a peanut butter freezer pie thing – one of those involving some mixture of cream cheese, whipped cream and various flavors, then frozen. It was yummy, though.
It was a lovely day.