Tomorrow I am attending a Mexican-themed dinner party to which I have been assigned to bring dessert. Unfortunately, I have no Mexican cookbooks, so I was forced to turn to other sources of inspiration. After scouring the internet for appropriate recipes earlier in the week, I settled on Boca Negra Chocolate Chipotle Cakes with Sweet Tomatillo Sauce and Vanilla Custard Sauce. This would involve toasting dried chiles, halving vanilla beans, blending tomatillos, cutting up unrefined brown sugar–a substance I have never encountered before–and generally making a big fuss in the kitchen, which is something I love to do above all things. Well, above most things, anyway.
And so by 9:00 tonight, having acquired none of the requisite ingredients and realizing that I have no free time at all during the day tomorrow, I accepted that there was absolutely no way it was going to happen, so I just made my regular chocolate cake recipe and tossed in a quarter cup of cinnamon and three tablespoons of chili paste. I was so flustered by the fact that I was making up a recipe that I forgot to put any eggs in; I rectified the omission, luckily, before it was too late.
If the batter was any indication, this cake is going to burn people’s tongues off.
Which just goes to show you I should just do what the fucking cookbook tells me to do.