Just made the second batch of rice krispie cakes this week, for the second kiddies’ Christmas party. How many kids, since the fabulous Mr Kellogg flaked some corn and puffed some rice, have had their cooking annunciation by stirring melting chocolate in a bain marie, shaking in however much breakfast cereal it can hold, and stuffing a spoon of the glop into a bun case?
That’s the magic I’m talking about.
The mystery of magic is the mystery of alchemy is the mystery of cooking: it’s the gaps in our understanding. Within this understanding, it’s a bit easier to melt chocolate in a bain marie that it is to bubble nigredo in a sealed alembic. I’m unconvinced, but my days are rushed and I’ve yet to find Prima Materia in the homebake aisle. Even in Lidl.
I turn into a right Hermes Trismagistus in the kitchen, but don’t reckon I’ll be rushing to add Jamie Oliver’s Emerald Tablet to my Amazon wishlist.
If I turned chocolate to gold there would be a class full of pissed off bling six-year-olds tomorrow.
In this way the little world was created according to the great world.
Pucker.
Things To Do
Cake:
Pressies:
Pressies from kids:
Cards:
Decorations:
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze:
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