|It’s a strawberry|
I’m in charge of making breakfast, lunch, and dinner for a couple days. And being the wonderfully organized girl that I am . . . I spent the morning of my first breakfast (which would be yesterday) scribbling on an old envelope. Okay, so I forgot to make a menu. So sue me. Using my orange, thin-tipped marker, I wrote as many breakfast, lunches, and dinners as I could think of that we had ingredients for. (Speaking of which, where did I put that envelope?) Now that I had a list assuring that we wouldn’t starve for the next couple days, I started off slow. Frozen burritos for lunch. Hey, writing a massive list all morning really takes the energy out of a person. But I made it up to my family by dinnertime, though, with ravioli and garlic cheese bread biscuits. Extra cheese. Maybe extra garlic, not sure. And oh, they were good.
Jeez, doesn’t the next meal come quickly? It’s insane. I went to sleep, woke up, and magically, it was breakfast time again. Now, I’m not a morning person. . . at all. Ask anyone in my family (only if you want assurance) they have various names for me in the morning: “cup of sunshine”, “the little sweetheart” all sarcastic remarks. Anyway, somehow, through my half-shut eyes and zombified brain, I came up with the best breakfast ever. Strawberry shortcakes! Ah-ha! Bingo.
I made the strawberry shortcakes from Bisquick. We have an awesome Bisquick cookbook with all these great recipes. I absolutely suggest (especially if Bisquick is as regular in your home as meat in a steakhouse) that you buy this book or rent it from the library. Even though we only had a little Bisquick left from my garlic cheese bread, I was able to come up with the necessary amount for the shortcakes.
Well, according to me, they were delicious. I layered the shortcakes as cake, strawberries, whipped cream, cake, strawberries, whipped cream like the picture in the book. And it looked exactly the same. My desserts almost never looks like the picture, but this one did! The cake was sweet and thick, the strawberries tart, and the whipped cream . . . whippy. It was even filling. I could barely finish mine.
My brothers thought otherwise, I’m afraid. Little brother barely touched the shortcake and picked out the strawberries. And older brother didn’t like the fact that the shortcake was crunchy and chrumbly. Granted, the cake was destined to crumble. But it was still good. Call it what you will. I say success. One says failure. One says work-in-progress. I’m going with success.