Cooking without a recipe is like driving without directions. The farther you reach the harder it is, but anyone can get where they’re going, and if not they can get pretty close.
Baking without a recipe is like trying to get to the moon.
Nah, the moon is a straight shot, you can brute force your way there eventually. Baking is more akin to trying to get to your Uncle Tito’s, who lives in the wilderness. You have to follow a very specific set of esoteric instructions, and if you turn 43 degrees left, instead of 45, you’ll end up at the Tito’s vodka distillery instead of Uncle Tito’s. Which could be a fun experience, but it’s not what you were going for.
Cooking without a recipe is like driving without directions. The farther you reach the harder it is, but anyone can get where they’re going, and if not they can get pretty close.
Baking without a recipe is like trying to get to the moon.
Nah, the moon is a straight shot, you can brute force your way there eventually. Baking is more akin to trying to get to your Uncle Tito’s, who lives in the wilderness. You have to follow a very specific set of esoteric instructions, and if you turn 43 degrees left, instead of 45, you’ll end up at the Tito’s vodka distillery instead of Uncle Tito’s. Which could be a fun experience, but it’s not what you were going for.
I mean that’s why we’re baking for Prue. Whichever we get to she’s happy
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Godsdammit Paul one more complaint outta you and it’s back to Winnipeg