At church, a lady congratulated me on my prize-winning cake. I smiled graciously and thanked her. "Did you make it from scratch?," she asked. I hope I was as gracious in responding to that comment. I didn't take offense, but the hilariously horrifying thought of even bothering with a cake mix and canned frosting made me laugh for the rest of the Sabbath.
This has got to be the picture of the century. Glenna puts it well by pointing out the dichotomy here. That is a heavy-duty, expensive-looking kitchen, but there's not a cook to be found.
I'm more interested in lamenting what she's doing with that cake. Why depan a 9 x 13" cake? She should have baked it in a cute party foil pan. I could even look away from the canned frosting, but why bring out the canned icing? That's the worst-tasting stuff in the world, and she's making a garish mess worse. Should have stuck with candles. Does she get an 'A' for effort? Honestly, is this somehow better than going to a bakery?
I think it's worth having high food standards, but I hope my pretentiousness doesn't reach the level of this overrated menu. I'll continue to embrace my foodie hangups. Besides, if ignorance is bliss, why aren't more people happy?