If he asks you am I running, tell him I'm flying
Rabbit, rabbit! Happy New Year! I baked an almond cake which failed so surreally I am now studying the remains to see what happened. According to the recipe, it was supposed to collapse in the middle, but it was also supposed to have some structural integrity afterward—I am not discounting the possibility that I just don't like this style of cake, but it literally broke up on re-entry. Looking for photographs of Peter Ustinov, I found him being a feral teenager and a slightly older teenage bohemian. He never lost the cat-look. I think tomorrow I will try the spider cake and see if it helps.

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Water content on butter has been all over the place this year, and egg volumes are not what they were forty years ago (it’s an Amanda Hesser now, bless her ubiquitous heart, but it was a Maida Heatter before that and had 2 and 1/3 cup flour and was baked in a ring pan) but mostly, yeah, it’s the fat ratio that’s blooey.
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Both of these factors have been under discussion in our household recently.
(it’s an Amanda Hesser now, bless her ubiquitous heart, but it was a Maida Heatter before that and had 2 and 1/3 cup flour and was baked in a ring pan)
(a) That makes a hell of a lot more sense. My mother's version of the East 62nd Street Lemon Cake uses two sticks of butter, but also three cups of flour and a cup of milk.
(b) If it started life as Maida Heatter, chances are very good that I can dig the original recipe out of one of my mother's books as soon as public health allows.
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Yeah, I just used Odense.
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