![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Angel Food
7 October 2008 23:37There’s this girl that I don’t know.
4 cups of sugar. 1 lemon.
I mean that I’m not smart enough to know her.
4 1/2 cups cake flour
I’ll never get all of her in my head at one time, y’know? It hurts to know that. I always felt like if I knew someone long enough, I’d know, like, all of her. But I’m just smart enough to know that’s never going to take place. Makes me suck a little air through my teeth…
2 teaspoons salt
…here in the supermarket. I’m reading the piece of paper taped to the side of the cart. It’s a list I brought. In case I forget. I'm more forgetful these days.
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
I’m bringing all of this home with me. Tonight’s her birthday.
2 cups boiling water
She’s going to invite a lot of friends.
16 egg whites
There’s going to be a party. There’ll probably be drugs. There’s more of that lately.
2 tablespoons baking powder
And sex.
2 teaspoons cream of tartar
and other poisons.
1 teaspoon almond extract
All I know is that I’m going to cook an Angel Food Cake for her birthday.
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
And then, while the party’s raging away,.
Sift cake flour, sugar, and salt three times then stir in the boiling water.
I’ll say I’m going to the bathroom
Let cool.
They’ll think that I’m doing a little extra ‘something something’ to help with the party. They’ll nod and giggle and wink at me through the layered fog before turning on each other with hungry mouths, wide pupils, clinking bottles. It’ll look like the clouds of Jupiter in the living room.
Beat egg whites, cream of tartar, baking powder, vanilla and almond flavorings until stiff peaks form.
Instead, I'll go through the bathroom into the master bedroom, and pack up most of my clothes into the waiting suitcase.
Fold into the flour mixture and pour batter into one ungreased 12x18 inch baking pan.
I’ll silently open the window and slip out. It’ll take a half hour for them to notice I’m gone.
Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for 35 minutes.
I’ll drive to the next city. I don’t even care. I won’t go to relatives. They don’t talk to me anymore. I won’t go to friend because I don’t have any. I’ll just get a motel room with this stolen visa and start looking at want ads.
Cool cake inverted in pan, laying a tea towel underneath the cake to absorb the steam.
I’ll work hard, stay straight, and save money.
Frost as desired once the cake is cooled.
Leave.
tags
4 cups of sugar. 1 lemon.
I mean that I’m not smart enough to know her.
4 1/2 cups cake flour
I’ll never get all of her in my head at one time, y’know? It hurts to know that. I always felt like if I knew someone long enough, I’d know, like, all of her. But I’m just smart enough to know that’s never going to take place. Makes me suck a little air through my teeth…
2 teaspoons salt
…here in the supermarket. I’m reading the piece of paper taped to the side of the cart. It’s a list I brought. In case I forget. I'm more forgetful these days.
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
I’m bringing all of this home with me. Tonight’s her birthday.
2 cups boiling water
She’s going to invite a lot of friends.
16 egg whites
There’s going to be a party. There’ll probably be drugs. There’s more of that lately.
2 tablespoons baking powder
And sex.
2 teaspoons cream of tartar
and other poisons.
1 teaspoon almond extract
All I know is that I’m going to cook an Angel Food Cake for her birthday.
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
And then, while the party’s raging away,.
Sift cake flour, sugar, and salt three times then stir in the boiling water.
I’ll say I’m going to the bathroom
Let cool.
They’ll think that I’m doing a little extra ‘something something’ to help with the party. They’ll nod and giggle and wink at me through the layered fog before turning on each other with hungry mouths, wide pupils, clinking bottles. It’ll look like the clouds of Jupiter in the living room.
Beat egg whites, cream of tartar, baking powder, vanilla and almond flavorings until stiff peaks form.
Instead, I'll go through the bathroom into the master bedroom, and pack up most of my clothes into the waiting suitcase.
Fold into the flour mixture and pour batter into one ungreased 12x18 inch baking pan.
I’ll silently open the window and slip out. It’ll take a half hour for them to notice I’m gone.
Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for 35 minutes.
I’ll drive to the next city. I don’t even care. I won’t go to relatives. They don’t talk to me anymore. I won’t go to friend because I don’t have any. I’ll just get a motel room with this stolen visa and start looking at want ads.
Cool cake inverted in pan, laying a tea towel underneath the cake to absorb the steam.
I’ll work hard, stay straight, and save money.
Frost as desired once the cake is cooled.
Leave.
tags
