End of semester, more baking, and friends

Remember how I said I’d try to post more? And then that totally didn’t happen?

Well, here I am, so quit whining. You can thank my friend Amanda for inspiring me to come back to this blog. I promise I didn’t forget, I just wasn’t inspired to write until I saw her entry from the other day.

I finished my first semester of graduate school a little over a week ago and I am so happy to have the next month or so off from academic obligations. I’ve transitioned well, as I have been binge-watching “30 Rock” since the minute I finished my last final. I also think that the GPA I earned this semester is the best I’ve had since high school, so that’s just wonderful.

Yesterday evening, after finding inspiration from even more friends, I decided to make a Candy Shop Pizza! As this is totally not a baking blog, despite anything that might make one believe otherwise, I’m only going to share one photo this time. Here is the finished, sliced product:

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My friend Megan said it looks like diarrhea — which it totally does — but agreed that its true home is in my mouth. This particular pie-cookie-thing contains a giant chocolate chip cookie, topped with peanut butter chocolate “sauce” and Twix, Reese’s, Snickers, and Crunch bits. It’s a dream.

Speaking of Megan!! I know I haven’t mentioned her here before, but if you’ve been following my posts on Facebook, Twitter, or Tumblr, you probably know that I got to meet this amazing lady in person for the first time last week! We met online a few years ago, and despite always living within driving distance of one another, we hadn’t met at all until Thursday night. Obviously, we saw The Hobbit together at midnight. Which was awesome despite straying from the book quite a bit. I’m not a hater.

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Megan! And me! Together!

I’m completely excited for what the next few weeks will bring, but rather than spoiling all that fun now, I’ll leave it up to myself to post updates as it happens!

Also, I am still planning on finishing my 50 things list about proudness and myself by December 31, just as I said I would! I’ll just need some motivation to be able to do so in time…the blank space looks pretty daunting.

I hope everyone is having a wonderful pre-wintertime/summertime (depending on where you live), and I’m so very happy to be back on the blog!

In which Christine takes a massive risk, and succeeds

Today, against my better judgment, I decided to bake.

I’m not the best cook in the world, and I wear this title with pride as I graciously allow my boyfriend to cook for me. But, sometimes, I feel ambitious enough to give these things a try myself.

Here it went. I’ve taken photos for posterity, and to prove I did this. I’m not a food blog or anything (the furthest thing from it, in fact), so enjoy these amateur photos documenting my less-than-amateur baking/cooking/chocolate-melting.

(These are S’mores Fudge Bars, by the way. I highly recommend them.)

I had to make a graham cracker crust, which sounded like the easiest part until I re-read the recipe and noticed that a food processor was recommended to crush up the graham crackers. Because I obviously don’t have one, I decided to crush them by hand. And when that became too difficult, I used a quarter-cup measure to crush them instead.

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CHRIST this is difficult. Wait a minute…

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It’s as if I’m exfoliating my hands with a sort of graham cracker scrub.

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Good enough.

After finishing up the crust, I had to make the fudge. Easy enough — just two ingredients — but then I ran into my second hurdle. My can opener can’t do much of anything but threaten to break upon first touch. Opening the condensed milk and managing to empty the can was fun.

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The worst can opener in the world, in action.

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But adding two cups of chocolate chips can fix pretty much anything.

Once the fudge became something resembling fudge, it was time to add layer #2 to this s’mores-like monstrosity.

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*uncontrollable drooling*

And then, in lieu of making my own marshmallow topping, I emptied a jar of marshmallow creme onto the chocolate (once it had cooled in the refrigerator, of course). Because really, making my own marshmallow topping would have turned out worse than what I did, which was cheating.

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Delicious, delicious cheating.

Another, longer stint in the refrigerator yielded this beauty:

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Which looked like this when cut into pieces:

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Success.