It has not been an easy row to hoe (or is it ‘road‘? Whatever). First of all, I have a husband who will always tell me exactly what he thinks of whatever it is that I’ve baked (or cooked, for that matter). I understand that there are some people out there that appreciate this level of truthfulness.
Usually (at least when it comes to my culinary efforts) I do not count myself among them.
I found a recipe that largely drew me because I had everything I needed already to bake them immediately, so I made them while my husband was at work. I figured we’d have them for breakfast in the morning. I tried one (okay, three) when they came out of the oven and thought they were just fine. I tupperwared them up and went to bed.
The next morning, there the lovely muffins sat on my kitchen island. My daughter tried them. She said they were good. My friend Kristen tried them. She said they were good. I mentioned this to my husband, as he eyed them suspiciously, blatantly not trying them. He apparently was not convinced.
I tried again. “You always say you don’t like baked goods because they’re too sweet. This recipe is not too sweet, which is partly why I chose it.”
“Okay, I’ll try it…” he said. He picked one up. He gingerly took a bite. He turned and spit said bite into the trash. “Ugh, that’s horrible!” he said. He started to throw the remaining piece out when I grabbed it and said, “Stop! I’ll eat it! It’s good!”
Later on that evening, after I’d mostly forgotten (but only partially forgiven him for) his performance earlier in the day, he leaned over and whispered…”You know, I even threw one of your muffins to the chickens this morning.”
“They threw it back.”