Loki and Sigyn in the Kitchen

Hyvää kanelirullapäivää!

Wake up, Sigyn! It’s a very special day! Do you know what October 4 is? It’s Cinnamon Roll Day! That’s right! In some northern countries, they celebrate by eating cinnamon rolls today. That is my kind of holiday!

When the human male mentioned this last night, the human female immediately hatched a plan. Now, I know the human female knows how to make cinnamon rolls–I’ve seen her do it. But she’s lazy at heart, so she decided that walking to the market, buying some bake-your own rolls, and eating those would be good enough. And the exercise would negate the calories from snarfing the rolls, right?

So here we are, on a pleasant fall morning, about to embark upon a gastronomical celebration.

The early light is pretty, but it hasn’t reached the schoolhouse lilies yet.

We are now at the market. The bakery must not know what day it is, because there isn’t a huge display of warm, cinnamony goodness.

And it looks like there was a run on brioche…

We’re headed, therefore, to the refrigerated dough section. We’re nearly there, but a display of All Things Pumpkin Spice has caught our eyes.

Um, no. Let us keep looking.

All right. Here we are. Pizza dough, bread dough, crescent rolls… Well, these look interesting, and they do come in both red and green options…

But we are here specifically for cinnamon rolls, so we should keep looking.

Ah. Cinnamon rolls. By Volstagg’s Straining Waistcoat Buttons! We have a lot of options. Almost too many. I have never seen strawberry ones before.

Is that even legal? What else do they have? How about Extra Rich Buttercream Icing?

I mean, there’s a 1-800 number for a cardiologist right here on the label, but they could be good. . .

Sigyn has countered with these.

Intriguing, but the human male is not one for Cream Cheese Icing.

The human female swears that the Orange ones are good.

But I think these would be most appropriate for the Rightful King of Asgard and Future Ruler of Midgard.

Truly kingly!

(later)

So what kind did we get? Who whined and wheedled until she got her way? Who do you think?

This is the human female trying to determine whether the round pan specified is going to hold all eight rolls.

It’ll be cozy, but it should work.

The time has come to open the roll of refrigerated dough. This is always the exciting bit. Sigyn, do you see where to start peeling away the paper wrapper?

Ehehehe! The human female has already greased the round pan, but look here!

She could be feasting gluttonously sooner if she’d paused long enough to read the Faster Bake Method instructions. She’s too lazy to wash the round pan and pull out a baking sheet, so she’ll just have to pace and salivate for the whole nineteen minutes.

Time to gently poke the sealing seam on the roll of dough…

BOOM!

Great Frigga’s Hairpins! The walk home from the store and the messing about with measuring pans took long enough the the eager little rolls just burst out of the can before I could even touch it!

We’re lucky it didn’t shoot the little can of icing across the room.

Oh, my. The rolls have also had enough time to fuse together into one big, solid log of dough.

Those perforations aren’t going to be any use at all. The human female is going to have to cut the rolls with a knife. Stand back, Sigyn! We don’t want you in the way of her rudimentary knife skills.

Here we are. All tucked in and cozy and ready for Mr. Oven.

(Twenty-three interminable minutes later…)

All done! They do smell wonderful, don’t they? I think I detect a hint of almond in the dough.

Frosting time!

Best let the human female do the honors, dearest. Orange icing doesn’t come out of red velvet very well.

Ta da!

Looks like she hasn’t used all of the icing, and she’s left two unfrosted, since the human male likes sweets less than she does. That is fine with me–it just means you and I can eat the leftover frosting right out of the can.

It’s nomming time!

Mmm. Lämmin, tuoksuva, herkullisia kaloreita.

>|: 9 : 9

An Apple A Day Keeps the Sigyn at Play (Sigyn Speaks)

Can you guess what is happening here today? Go on, guess!

If you guessed “More food!” you are correct!

The human female’s mother has agreed to teach me how to make her special Apple Roses. With a cast on, it’s going to be a mostly hands-off lesson for me, but I’m enthusiastic nonetheless. Loki says it all sounds “a bit too girly” and that he’ll sample the finished product. That’s all right. Pastry and cloaks don’t mix very well!

We are starting with a nice, crisp apple.

This one’s an envy. Isn’t the color gorgeous? You could even make some yellow apple roses–or a combination of red and yellow!

First, you want to wash and core your apple. But don’t peel it! You want that color!

Cut each half into thin slices–about 1/8″.

You might end up with some pieces toward the outside of each apple half that aren’t very big. You can either eat those (yum!) or save them for the middles of the roses. Drop the slices into a bowl of water with a splash of lemon juice as you cut them. That way they won’t brown.

Microwave the bowl of apples in water for three minutes on high to cook them a little. You want the slices to be flexible, but not mushy. Not that I have anything against mushy apples! Applesauce is nummy! It’s just not what we are aiming for today.

We are using frozen puff pastry. If you have the time and skill to make your own, you are my new hero. When my arm heals, I may try making some. But store-bought is perfectly okay!

Roll out the pastry to about 1/8″ thick.

We are making six roses from one apple and one half package of pastry, so we want to cut each of the marked-out pieces in half lengthwise.

To start making the roses, first spread one strip thinly with apricot jam. If your jam is too thick or too cold, you can warm it up a little.

Don’t use too much jam or your roses will be soggy. : ( You want just enough to be “glue”!

Next, place apple slices overlapping on the top half of the strip, fold the bottom of the pastry up over the bases of the slices, then roll the whole thing up.

Isn’t that pretty! Don’t worry if your first try is a little wonky–mine was! It will still be delicious.

We are going to cook these in a muffin tin. Put a rose in every other space so the rose petals have room to spread. We’re spraying the cups we’re using with non-stick spray and filling the unused cups with water so that things heat evenly.

At this point you can sprinkle the roses with a little sugar if you want them sweeter and sparkly. You could also use cinnamon!

Bake at 375F until the pastry is crisp and golden, about 30 to 40 minutes. Let them cool for a minute or two before taking them out of the cups–any longer than that and they will probably stick!

Squeee! These are almost too pretty to eat! You can serve these warm or cold, with ice cream or whipped cream or a dusting of powdered sugar. You could tuck a rose or mint leaf in between the pastry and the petals, too, if you want to be really fancy.

Somehow, though, I don’t think these are going to last long enough for any embellishments, not with the way Loki is eyeing them!

Oh, no! I just realized I didn’t get a photo of the rolling-up process! I am so sorry!!! There are some good photos here, though we weren’t working from that particular recipe.

These were really fun and easy and yummy! I hope you try some of your own!

: )

At Least It’s a Good Color

It is still, sadly, too hot these days to want to cook. The humans have been investigating the fascinating world of cold soups. They’ve tried a Persian one that involves buttermilk, yogurt, cucumbers, dill, and pistachios. It was pretty good, though I’d like to point out that, with that much dairy involved, they are dangerously skirting “milkshake for dinner” territory.

Today the human female is trying a new recipe, about which there is no little excitement in this house. First, a little backstory. Some years ago, the humans often enjoyed a particular soup mix, a Cream of Snowpea flavor from that brand with the Viking ship on it. It made a very delicious chilled soup–perfect for those days with temperatures nudging triple digits. I couldn’t allow that to continue, of course, so I arranged for the soup to become unavailable. Not just no-longer-carried-by-the-store. No. It it’s in the you-liked-it-so-we-stopped-making-it category. (I just love doing that.)

Imagine her delight, then, when the human female found a Cream of Snow Pea soup recipe! Ingredients were purchased in short order, and we are ready to launch the attempt.

Why a hyena is interested in a vegetable-based dish I have no idea. I’ve given up trying to understand what goes on in that animal’s brain.

Snowpeas?

Check! Soooo many snowpeas! Now, I know that the recipe doesn’t stipulate one way or the other, but the humans are firm believers in stringing the snowpeas, so we’re going to do that. Otherwise, we’ll end up with long stringy bits in the soup.

I like ripping things up, so I’ve volunteered–and notice I have willing helpers! It’s not hard work, just a bit time-consuming. The strings just zip right off.

We’re batch-and-a-halfing the recipe, since one bag of snowpeas was too little and two is too many.

Sigyn says that if you hold them up to the light they’re like “little stained glass windows.

I love that girl.

Six cups is a LOT of snowpeas! We need just a few more.

Fisi! Drop it! BAD hyena! Give that last one here, right now!

Sleipnir’s fetlocks! There are hyena teethmarks on it. No one wants to eat that! Fisi, you are banished to the compost bowl!

Buuuuut since the snowpeas are going to be cooked, I suppose we can get away with it. We just won’t tell anyone.

The snow peas get cooked in some water.

and a little bit of chicken broth.

It doesn’t look like much yet, but I have hopes.

Now we add some frozen peas.

Small, green, and icy. I can relate.

Here’s where the cream goes in.

Sigyn, are you hugging that carton? We only need three tablespoons. How about if we use what’s left to make some ice cream later? Will you let go now?

When the peas are done,

everything goes into the blender, a little at a time.

Dibs on pushing the buttons! I’m very good at destruction.

Great Frigga’s Hairpins! It’s going to be close! The volume of the blender carafe matches almost exactly the volume we’ve got of stuff that needs blending. Ehehehe! The human female is so stupid! She’s holding the top of the blender on with a towel, and there’s still soup dribbling out from under the lid. It never occurred to her to do this step in batches. I don’t know who’s going to clean this all up. I just know it won’t be ME.

The recipe says we’re supposed to put the resulting…slop is really the only word for it–through a fine sieve.

This step looks like it is going to take half an hour, at least, and leave a good quantity of pea pulp in the strainer Maybe we didn’t blend it enough? Despite my words of advice to the contrary, the human female has elected to skip this step. Now, the soup just has to chill until dinnertime.

(later) Behold, the finished collation!

We are going to enjoy it with some sesame seed bread from a bakery in the Big City to the South. It’s been in the freezer since forever, and the human female thinks it will be a good go-with.

Sip. Hmm. It certainly tastes of pea. Just plain old green pea, and not much else. The snowpeas are utterly lost, and so is the cream. We could have spared the expense of both. Bleargh! What’s this? Oh. A little stringy bit that didn’t get blended or sieved. Yuck! There’s another. See? That’s what you get for being lazy.

(A bit later) The addition of some salt and pepper and some bacon crumbles have improved this disappointing dish immensely. It’s cold, it’s green, it’s filling, and the bread is good.

I shall be surprised, however, if it graces the table again.

>|: 6

Dimme Sum of Those!

It’s still too hot to want to cook, but we have to eat something. I suppose we could all sit around under the AC and eat cold cereal every night, but we have not fallen that far. Yet.

The jury is still out about whether just caving and having strawberry ice cream for dinner is déclassé or counts as one serving of fruit and one of dairy.

Tonight, the humans have decided on something of a compromise. They are having a Dim Sum Night–but someone else has had the chore of making all the morsels. One trip to the Oriental Grocery plus a rummage through the freezer for things bought on previous trips should turn up a respectable assortment of things to choose from. Now we just need a pot of boiling water, a bamboo steamer, and a skillet, and the stage is set for a quick dinner without a lot of prep time. And no hot oven, which is a deal-breaker these days.

The steamer is very cleverly made. I like it.

Mostly because I know that *I* will not be the one cleaning it.

Sigyn, let’s see what the humans picked out.

Gyoza. Good choice. Not Chinese, but still delicious, and the human male can usually make these without burning them.

Now wait just a minute! Soup dumplings are Chinese, but bulgogi? Definitely not. It is very pan-Asian in here tonight!

There are some other dumplings that will be boiled, as well as some broccoli with oyster sauce. I bet the broccoli was the human female’s idea, as a nod to “nutrition.”

Mmm! I think some things are ready! Rather than wait until everything is done, let’s sample them as they come.

The boiled dumplings look pale and sort of lonely on the plate, but they’re full of tasty meat and veggies, so I will happily put them out of their misery.

Soup dumplings!

These want a spoon, because they really are full of filling and soup! I looked up how they make them, and it turns out that the soup goes in as a sort of jelly and only melts into soup as the dumplings are cooked. Don’t watch the human female eat hers, Sigyn. I saw it once. It’s not pretty.

Here come the gyoza!

Crispy on the bottom, tender on the top. You distract the human female and I’ll snag us one or two of hers as well as our own.

Sigyn gets excited about broccoli. So excited, in fact, that she forgot the oyster sauce. Maybe next time.

The human female says we have something special for desert tonight. I wonder what it is?

Owww! My ears! Great Frigga’s Corset, Sigyn, what is all the squealing for?

Hedge-hog shaped bao buns full of sweet red beany goo. I must admit, this is a thing of whose existence I had never once conceived.

More squealing! But not the happy kind. What now?

Custard-filled bunny buns! Sigyn doesn’t know which is worse, that we are going to eat little bunnies or the fact that they appear to have their eyes on their ears….

Fortunately, there are also apple-flavored mochi, another product I have never tried.

(poke, poke, poke) They certainly have that soft, small-mammally texture I associate with mochi. I wonder what they’re full of? Or maybe they’re solid all the way through?

Apple goo! And it’s delicious!

That is just the sort of meal I like–I didn’t have to make it, I’m not going to clean up after it, and there was as much dessert as anything else. Apart from the disturbing bunnies, I think it was a great success.

Best part? There is more of everything in the freezer so we can do this all again!

>|: 9

A Heart Not Quite As Black as Mine (But Black Enough)

Home at last! After all the snooping around in the herbarium this week, the playing with wood samples, and the trying to fence stolen lab chemicals, I am a tired Loki and looking forward to a good dinner and a weekend!

Yum! It looks like the human female’s special slaw is on the menu tonight! I do like that stuff, and it has the happy property of being a raw dish, which means the human female can’t BURN it!

I will even help, since preparation involves knives. Time to stab some cabbage!

Ooops.

I forgot I cursed the cooling box. Yogurt and produce freezes, ice cubes and ice cream get a little soft, and vegetables develop mysterious maladies.

This head is riddled throughout with weird black spots, and it smells a little funny, too.

Fear not, Sigyn! There’s no way I’m going to let the human female feed this to you. If that’s fungus, no doubt its nasty little mycelia are interwoven throughout the entirety and picking out the bad bits is not really an option. The male is just going to have to go out in this heat and go buy another head of cabbage. We’ll still get our yummy slaw, and this way, we have time for a cool apéritif before dinner…

Win/win!

>|: [

These Things Don’t Just Appear Out of Nowhere, You Know, Part II: …Must Come Out

Some interminible period of scooping, leveling, pouring, mixing, and dithering later, the human female is reasonably sure she has put in eight cups of flour. The dough seems awfully soft and sticky, but it’s supposed to be that way at this point.

Sigyn, if you fall into that, I’m not sure if it will be easier to clean you off or let you be and summon a doppelganger.

Just kidding! You’re irreplaceable and I love you.

Now the dough gets to rest for three hours in the freezer or over night in the fridge. Since I want cookies TODAY, freezer it is.

Covered with plastic wrap, it can be walked on. (stompity, stompity, stomp.) Footprints are fun!

(later)

Because the human female is too bone idle to roll and cut cookies, she and Sigyn are making the dough into balls and rolling them in cinnamon sugar.

Be assured I’m doing my part, too.

About twenty cookies fit on one sheet.

They look like meatballs at this stage, don’t they?

Oven time!

Bake, bake, bake, bake, bake… Peer as much as you like, but be careful not to burn your nose, my love.

Pans and pans of cookies are coming out of the oven, one after the other.

They’re taking over the table, like a sweet little army of calorie bombs.

(thirteen or fourteen dozen later) The cookies are all made, so now there’s nothing left but the clean-up. Which I won’t do, of course, but I have nothing against supervising and making snide comments.

There is no centimeter of this kitchen which is un-gooped. Human female, sometimes I think a palsied gorilla wearing boxing gloves could do a neater job than you!

was here.

>|: [

These Things Don’t Just Appear Out of Nowhere, You Know, Part I: What Goes In…

Gaming Weekend is nearly upon us, and you know what that means. The humans are running around like headless poultry. The male is making lists of games he wants to play and the female is worrying about what to feed people. We didn’t do this whole rigamarole last year because of The Plague, so everyone wants this year to be special.

The order of business today includes Gingerbread. I have spoken of the human female’s gingerbread before, and noted how popular it is. Don’t tell her I said it, but the stuff is addicting. And unfortnately, if people want to eat them, she has to spend a good chunk of the day making them. They don’t just appear out of nowhere. Believe me, I’ve tried, and it’s one thing my magic just can’t do.

This time, Sigyn and I are going to help make them. Well, Sigyn is going to help (and hopefully learn how to make them so that we’re not dependent on the human female for our fix), and I am going to meddle. Not too much, because I still want there to be cookies at the end of the day, but enough so that I get banished from the kitchen before it’s time to wash the dishes.

The recipe lives on the computer, so the human female has scribbled it down on scratch paper she can take to the kitchen.

She has amounts written out for both a single and a double batch. Today, I think we’re going for a double batch. A single batch takes less than a jar of molasses, and double batch takes less than two but more than one. Unless she’s willing to do Weird Math and make something like a batch and a half, the molasses never comes out even. (Most people do not suspect my seat on the board of the National Molasses Marketing Association, but it’s a role I dearly cherish.)

Sigyn, I know you’re contemplating diving in and drinking your way out, but I beg you to reconsider.

Next, we need sugar. Plain old white sugar.

You’d think that she’d just use brown sugar—which is white sugar with some molasses added in—instead of white sugar and molasses, but apparently the tang of molasses is what makes these cookies Extra Good, so not even I will muck about with this part of the recipe.

If Sigyn falls in, the cookies will be even sweeter. (But I’ll make sure she doesn’t!)

Shortening is next. The human female refuses to scoop and measure the stuff anymore because it’s so messy. Now she just buys sticks that are exactly a cup. I’ve seen to it that she has two partial sticks and will have to figure out if that’s enough or too much.

And she’ll be all greasy by the end anyway, so mess will not have been averted after all. *I* don’t plan to do the clean-up, so I am more than all right with this!

The bowl is filling rapidly. Are we sure there’s going to be room for the rest of the ingredients?

Eggs hold everything together.

Ehehehee! I jiggled the bowl while the human female was running the mixer, and there are now greasy-eggy-molasses-y splatters all over the vicinity!

Time for the dry ingredients. The human female likes to start with the spices and whatnot, to make sure they are well mixed in. I distracted her while she was copying the recipe and she left out the cinnamon. Let’s see if she remembers!

Salt, cinnamon, ginger, baking soda… She did remember! (Giggle)

Sigyn has turned the jar around and foiled my next little joke.

Well, they’re both brown and fragrant, so what’s the diff?

Just kidding! I wasn’t really going to let the human female put in cumin rather than cinnamon. As I said, I have a vested interest in these cookies coming out right.

Now, we’re not just going to start dumping these in, are we? I’m usually all about the the chaos, but in this case, I do believe some precision is called for…

Precision, of course, does not always equal neatness. This is a double batch, so we need 2 tsp of cloves. The human female is using the half-teaspoon measure because it fits in the jar better. Watch this. “Hey! Woman! Did you count to four half teaspoons, or did your tiny mortal brain just count to two for a double batch?” Ehehehhehe! She thought she knew, but now she’s not sure. If she only put two, the cookies won’t taste right. If she put in four and adds two more, they’ll be equally awful. “Stupid woman! Maybe you should add one more, just in case, and they’ll only be a little awful.”

In the end, she has decided that she had only put in two and has added two more. Don’t tell her, but that was the right answer. Time for flour! It is even easier to make her lose count of how many cups of flour, since she has to go all the way to eight.

Scoop, level, pour. Scoop, level, pour. Mix. Scoop, level, pour. Scoop, level, pour. Mix. Scoop, level, pour. Scoop, level—

Now is this cup number six, or number five? Five or six? *I* know, but I’m not telling…

To be continued…

>|: [

There’s Nothing Like a Good Paella

The humans are food-bored again. The human male has promised us paella tonight! Come on, Sigyn! Let’s see how it progresses!

First, we assemble the ingredients. Says here we’re gong to need some saffron threads. Fancy!

Now, where is the saffron?

Ah. No saffron. I’m no expert, but I do believe that saffron is a critical ingredient for paella. Let’s consult the recipe again.

We do have arborio rice, do we not?

Correct! We do not! Did someone perhaps erase saffron and arborio rice from the most recent shopping list? I’m sure I couldn’t say. I suppose it’s possible.

Clearly, we are not having paella. The human female seems to think she can throw together something that might conceivably be termed “scampi.” Translation: We have shrimp and chicken and lots and lots of garlic.

But first! The yellow pepper.

It was purchased specifically for paella, but we are all agreed that it doesn’t really “go” with scampi. Say bye-bye to the pepper, Sigyn. It will no doubt vanish into the crisper drawer in the cold box, where it will languish, forgotten, until it’s too furry/soggy/moldy to be good for anything at all.

Don’t look, Sigyn. It’s time to cut up some chicken.

Do you know whose idea it was to have boneless, skinless chicken thighs be so weirdly constructed? No, it wasn’t me. Chickens predate me by a good few thousand years. However, I certainly approve of how awkward they are to cut up!

Sauteing the chicken renders it much less queasy-making to look at.

Notice the dried shallots soaking in the background. Also the Hungarian paprika, just for a little flavor.

Now we make a roux for the sauce. We need butter for that.

Sigyn loves butter and would lick a stick if you let her. Sorry, my love. Not today.

Mmm! Smell all that good garlic and butter and chicken stock and white wine and shallots!

(It doesn’t show in the photo, but I keep loosening the small handle on the pan. The human male tightens it back up. I loosen it again. It’s a little game we play.)

Ehehehe! More of my perfidy is discovered! Scampi usually involves pasta, but it looks like we are also out of linguini, fettuccine, and all the other -inis. Whatever shall the humans do for the starchy part of the meal?

By Volstagg’s straining tunic buttons! Gnocchi? That’s preposterous! That’s unheard-of! That’s weird!

That’s… not a bad idea, actually. They’re sort of like pasta, and these do have garlic in them.

We have acquired the shrimp and some asparagus. I suppose that’s so we can pretend we are getting our vegetables when, in fact, this is all pasta, butter, shrimp, chicken, and garlic. Whatever lets the humans sleep at night, I suppose.

Getting closer to done…

I must admit–it smells pretty darn good! But then again, you could put garlic and butter on an old tire and it would smell just as nice.

Time to plate!

Great Frigga’s Corset, that’s ugly!

(nibble, nibble.) You know what? This scampi-adjacent mess is actually good! But don’t tell the humans. I don’t want them getting swelled heads.

Hmm. You know what I think? I think they should find the arborio rice hiding in the pantry tomorrow, that’s what I think.

>|: [

I Know! I Know! It’s in Minnesota!

The humans are cooking again. After the pizza debacle last Friday, you’d think they wouldn’t dare to show their faces in the kitchen for a month, but they’re nothing if not persistent. There’s a delicious dish they make which involves a pork tenderloin rubbed with spices, browned and glazed with apricot jam, roasted on a bed of caramelized onions and served with a wild rice blend.

It calls for a very particular blend of spices from the Purveyor of Spices. Northwoods Seasoning, it’s called. And there’s a jar of it… somewhere. They’re sure of it!

Where is the Northwoods?

The human male is looking while the human female is working on the onions.

Great Frigga’s Corset! He’s actually emptying the cabinet, trying to find the elusive jar!

What?! It’s not there?! My, my, my…. I wonder who could have used the last of it without buying more?

I guess you’ll just have to look it up online and reverse-engineer it. Sure hope you have all the ingredients…

>|: [

Loki, God of A-gleying Best-laid Plans

The humans are really Into Baking recently. The male, especially, is in search of the Perfect Pizza Crust. Their first attempt used an un-risen batch of French bread dough, and that was all right, but it wasn’t Perfect. So the male ordered some sort of fancy flour especially for pizza dough and found an Authentic Recipe, and that made some rather tasty cardboard. (I distracted the human female and she overbaked it.)

So then he read up on the subject and learned that apparently it’s key to use a preheated pizza stone and a 500-degree F oven, so today we are trying it again.

Are your hands clean, Sigyn? It’s time to make dough!

Behold, the fancy pizza flour.

(For some unfathomable reason, the back of the package has graphics of sprinkled spices and crumbs and I swear to Sleipnir it looks like mold…)

Next we need some AP flour…

Ugh! Flour is so hard to get out of green velvet!

Time for yeast!

Personally, I can take it or leave it, but Sigyn loves the way it smells. She calls yeast her “little fungal friends”.

The flour’s ready to go.

So is the dissolved yeast.

Careful up there, my love. Yeast goop is probably harder to get out of red velvet than flour is to get out of green.

The recipe says to “mix by hand to create a sticky dough.”

Better you than me, human. That looks terrible.

Sigyn, I really think you are becoming too involved in this…

If you end up in there, I’m not sure there’s any amount of bathing that would get that stuff out of your clothes and hair.

Sigyn says the dough is fun to play with.

I will take her word for it…

The recipe says the dough should be “sticky.”

I don’t think it said anything about “spackle.”

The dough’s been divided in two and now it’s rising/resting in a barely-warm oven.

The oven is also a good place because, so far, the cats have not figured out how to get into it.

Well, it stuck to the towels, but we got it off, and now it’s all rested and ready to shape and top.

Ehehehehe! Snort! Ehehehehehe! Great Frigga’s Corset, I can’t catch my breath! I’m laughing so hard I can’t hold the camera steady so I’ll just have to tell you…

The recipe was adamant that the pizzas should be constructed on a well-floured peel, so that is what the human male wanted to do. The female had her doubts but went along—spread out the dough for the first pie, spread on the sauce, sprinkled cheese, artichokes, mushrooms (on a sector of it the human male won’t touch), and spices. Then the male tried to slide it onto the the pre-heated pizza stone…

…and it wouldn’t come off the peel. No quick jerk, no little jiggle, no nudge with a spatula could dislodge it. It just sort of sagged and flopped and s t r e t c h e d until the toppings started sliding off, and there was NO WAY in Hel that thing was coming off the peel.

At that point the human male gave up and was ready to go out for pizza, but the human female, to whom wasting food is a cardinal sin, figured that maybe she could fold the whole mess over into a calzone, lift it up carefully, and cook it on a regular pizza pan, pre-heated pizza stone be damned.

Except.. Ehehehehe! The dough was, by this point, stretched so thin that it just sort of oozed/ruptured and– bleeeeargh, disgorged a bunch of its filling.

Her disastrous creation is baking now, and it is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen go into that oven.

And one of the worst coming out.

Ehehehehehe! My stomach hurts from laughing, and I’m crying over here! Even Sigyn can’t find anything good to say about it. It…it looks like a Horta monster from that old sci-fi show:

That’s right, Kirk! Set phaser to “kill!”

Because it has mushrooms, the human male won’t touch it. I sure don’t want to try it, and I won’t let Sigyn go anywhere near it. The female and the Perennial Bachelor dinner guest are going to split it and try to choke it down.

Eehehehehe! Ow, my tummy! The thick parts are underbaked, there is hardly any filling, and the female has given up after just a few bites. The Perennial Bachelor has managed to keep his half down and polished off the bowl of extra filling as well.

What to do with the second half of the Disaster Dough? The male is still in favor of going to get take out, but the human female who is, as I have observed before, part terrier, is doggedly (ha!) insisting that she can at least make it the way they did the last one, on a pizza pan, no peel involved.

(a bit later:) It resisted.

It’s edible, and the thick part is a bit underdone, but at least the human male got something for dinner. Sigyn and I are going out to eat.

What’s that? Some of you would like the recipe so you can try and see if you have better luck?

Um, yeah, no.

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