Pull Yourself up by Your Apron Strings

Mike is my photography mentor. When we met, I possessed only a lowly Canon PowerShot A550, but my photography has improved under his tutelage. I am his foodie mentor. When I met him, he was a steak and potatoes kind of guy, whose favorite dessert was a chocolate-peanut butter no-bake cookie. He still loves all of those. You can't change a man.

I've entered a couple of cooking contests with Mike now. Neither of which we've won. If I can't even pull out a victory in his office cooking contests, I might as well hang up my apron.

First, there was a salsa and queso contest, in which we entered a Roasted Tomatillo Salsa and Queso Flameado.




Mike said I went overboard with the lime in the salsa, and I sadly agreed with him. After the judging, when our salsa and queso placed in the middle of the pack, he said that his office-mates prefer food out of a jar anyway, and I happily agreed with him.



The real blow came when I baked two identical white cakes with raspberry filling and vanilla buttercream to enter in the office baking contest and charity auction. The top two awards were announced, and my cake was not named among the victors. Perhaps from now on, I should be the one to take pictures and not take the cake.