Dear Dippy-Dotty-Girl . . . while I love you and your blog, I also hate you. This failure . . . this failure is on your hands.
Hello, my wonderful internet community, how are you this fine day? I would like to elicit some sympathy here. Allow me to set the scene:
You are a weird, slightly shorter than expected, human being by the name of Mia. Basking in the glow of a hot chocolate post you thought was trash actually being very well-recieved, and a millionth reread of the brilliance that is Throne Of Glass, you are comfortably living your life. Until, that is, you see a notification from one of your favourite bloggers. Your interest is piqued; you’re excited for the treat you know you’re about to experience.
What wonders is Arundhati about to share? Is there a new squirrel? (The bastards are entertaining.) Maybe a beautiful location? Or a funny story?
You eagerly open the blog post and, no, you are not greeted by any of your expected wonders. You are effectively sucker-punched in the face by all of your mistakes and your flaws. Why? Well, my friends, because the first thing you see – the first thing you greedily feast your eyes on while simultaneously trying to force yourself to look away – is this:
(I know; I may have held your attention for a few moments, but you are now consumed by the desire for that delicious cheesecake and you require a blog post link. Fine. Post linked here. Go and read, it’s brilliant – and I resent it all the more for it. Just make sure you come back afterwards.)
I know what you’re thinking – “Mia, that cheesecake looks delicious; what’s the issue?”. Well, the issue is that I am a terrible cook. Like, truly bad. My parents had a ban on me using the kitchen for a few years.
I used to love baking – and I was actually pretty good at it – until one day . . . nothing worked. I’m not even joking here; admittedly, the intro may have been humourous, but I am deadly serious right now. My family all used to beg me to bake and then one day I just . . . couldn’t. Everything I made came out terribly.
Recently, however, I have been trying to get more into it. I’ve been branching out, slowly but surely, and dipping my toes back in. And then I saw that post.
Somehow, that cheesecake craving managed to get in my head. It managed to insidiously whisper false promises to me. Until, finally, I thought “hey, I feel like baking”.
Long story short: I tried to make a gingerbread house.
Spoiler alert: I did not succeed.
What You Need
- I bought two boxes of Sainsbury’s gingerbread mix (£3 each, which is pretty great!)
- Unsalted Butter
- Golden Syrup
What, However, You DON’T Need To Do
- Well, first of all . . . you don’t need to go off-script and decide “well, the house on the front looks shit, so I’m making my own design”. I’d actually advise against doing that. Naturally . . . that is what I did.
- And then I’d advise not getting cocky when the gingerbread tastes delicious and you’ve cut it all into shapes and it seems like things could go well . . . they won’t.
- There’s really no point in decorating . . . look at those gaps in the pieces; this entire structure is a house of cards just waiting to collapse. And I’m pretty sure the icing wasn’t designed to be strong enough to keep it all together – that original design was pretty simple. But, sure, whittle away your precious time before the grave with meaningless pursuits like sticking sweets to pieces of gingerbread.
- I’d also not recommend doing the roof first; apparently all the pressure of fingers pressing sweets and icing onto the weakest part of the house isn’t great for keeping it intact. Who knew?
But, hey, if you follow what I did, you can have something more exciting than a gingerbread house . . . you can have a futuristic gingerbread house that has been decimated by natural disasters because Donald Trump is president and doesn’t believe in climate change and is likely going to kill the entire human race just that much quicker.
There’s your Christmas cheer. Bah fucking humbug.
Well . . . I mean, that’s all I really have to say on this subject. I tried to bake; technically, I got a little closer to my goal than usual because the actual gingerbread came out well, it’s just the decorating that didn’t. But then again, I don’t like bloody gingerbread and I only made a gingerbread house for the decorations. So I still didn’t achieve all that much. Yay.
What do you guys you think? Have you ever attempted gingerbread houses before? Shall we just rename this recipe “Christmassy Gingerbread Bark”? Or consider it a political statement through the medium of artwork? Let me know your thoughts down below!