Monday, September 17, 2018

Cake Pans

Not to boast, but people come to me for advice about things sometimes. It is of course possible that they come to me to find out the things they definitely shouldn't be doing - like when that one weirdo at the office with no eyebrows tells you they like your outfit - but I prefer to believe that I give the impression of knowing what I'm doing at least some of the time, so any requests for advice usually leave me feeling that happy little glow one feels when successfully faking one's way through life.

I got just such a call one day from my old buddy Cornelis; yes, even he of the annoyingly perfect family, teeth, career path, positive attitude, blah-fucking-blah, had come to seek my sage advice. Damn - I must be faking the hell out of life. Win!

He wanted to know... what dish to bake a cake in.

Okay, only slightly deflating, I could work with that: "Um, a cake pan?"

"We don't have cake pans. Can I use a casserole dish?"

"Wait, what? No cake pans?! What kind of... y'know what, never mind. Sure, you can use a casserole dish. You might have to change the baking time a little, though - what size have you got?"

"Umm..."

"It should say on the bottom."

"Oh. Uh... nine by thirteen inches."

"Hold up, what does this casserole dish look like?"

"You know, just a regular casserole dish - clear, says Pyrex on the bottom?"

Full disclosure, in my house, a 9x13" Pyrex is called a cake pan, because cake obviously trumps casserole. OBVIOUSLY. I send a brief prayer of apology to the cake gods if I'm ever forced to debase one of their sacred vessels with a lowly casserole. What the hell kind of heathen household must this guy live in if he thinks a cake pan is called a casserole dish? What do they call cookie sheets, "vegetable roasting platforms"? When was the last time he's even seen a dessert? My lawd, think of the children!

"Hey, wait a minute - why did you call me about this?"

"I dunno, I guess you just seem like someone who knows about cakes."

And there, implicit in his statement, was the answer to my question: he lives in a much thinner household than I do. This conversation took place several years ago and honestly, I've been trying to transmogrify it into a compliment ever since, but sometimes I'll look in a mirror and realize, Yeah. I definitely look like the sort of person who knows a thing or two about cakes. Like, maybe I'm BFFs with cake but it's gotten a little toxic over the years and we probably should consider seeing other people once in a while. (It's not you, it's me?)

Definitely not putting that one in my Feel-Good Folder. Maybe I'll tuck it away in a drawer for when I finally lose those last, stubborn eighty pounds; it's just the sort of thing that might fit more comfortably then.