I love good bread. I like baking with natural ingredients and as few unnatural additives as possible. But I’m also not above sacrificing a couple of my values when it comes to a competition… So let me tell you a story:
One Christmas, I received the gift of a Chinese calendar. I confess, it was neither what I expected nor wanted. It was, in fact, a free gift that my family had received from their local takeaway, which they had decided to re-gift to me instead of buying me something I might actually have wanted.
War ensued.
Over many months, I attempted to palm this calendar back off onto various family members. And each time they returned it to me.
The calendar was hidden in belongings, put under the windscreen wipers of cars, wrapped up in birthday presents, left in houses and so on…
In one of its final journeys, I shredded the calendar and broke up its wooden frame, packed it into a wine bottle, wrapped it up and gave it to my brother.
Then last Christmas my wife and I received the gift of a cushion. It was a slightly odd gift, but not hideously ugly, given my brother’s taste. So I thought little of it. Around March, having lent on this cushion many times, I began to notice that at certain angles it was a little uncomfortable. And one day I felt something jab into my ribs. It clicked… the Trojan pillow had been my brother’s vehicle for inflicting the hateful calendar upon me once again!
Months passed as I plotted my revenge. Visits came and went, and despite my brother looking suspiciously in everything I gave him, the calendar never materialised.
Until, the occasion of my Mother’s 60th birthday some 6 months later. We hired a lovely cottage in the New Forest and went away as a family for a few days. We each baked some things to take along for the weekend. And… well, I’ll let the pictures tell the rest of the story:
That was nearly a week ago. I think its safe to assume the calendar has now passed. Nobody guessed the secret ingredient.
And I win…
No wonder they tasted like crap. I didn’t question it because we’re used to feigning enjoyment over your baking. You weasel. This is far from over… watch your back Brother Bear. Mark my words, you’ll be sorry.
LikeLiked by 1 person