May 3, 2010
Have you ever made pizza? Like, from scratch? I'm a big admirer of those who do but for some reason I find it incredibly intimidating. I have a big supply of pizza dough from my Grandma in my freezer that I have yet to use, mostly because I'm afraid the cold has killed the yeast (which already have a "thing" against me and refuse to rise). So I decided to make it from scratch. Everything that could have went wrong, did. The yeast I used must have expired, because the dough had yet to rise after numerous hours, and then I accidently cooked it when I put it in a warm oven. Then it went into the trash along with my day's ambitions.
Now you know why you're reading about hot fudge instead of pizza. Because eventually, I had to give in, and there's a fairly decent pizza place downstairs from my building that served its purpose quite well for yesterday's dinner. For now.
This weekend just wasn't my cooking weekend, probably because I was preoccupied with the AP European History Exam that is coming up next week that I'm completely unprepared for. The hot fudge that was suppossed to make 2 1/2 cups of chocolate glory made a half cup of a runny (but delicious) mess that I left in the refridgerator for tonight. It wasn't as silky as I would have liked, so I'll keep looking for a recipe (maybe one that has cream in it to smooth it out), but it will certainly do for now. It's awfully good on ice cream, the cupcake I had last night, and quite frankly, right from the container.