In The Beginning...

Tuesday the 27th day of July won't soon be forgotten in Sweet Thing lore. Sweet Thing has begun its remarkable existence in a clunky, but tasty manner. “Nobody is perfect”, the saying goes, and apparently that includes us. We confronted frustrations, from recipe disasters to attitude abrasion (not really, I just said that to be funny). At the end of the day, though, we still stand. It was a good day.

The Highlights:

Ton Cake Muffins
An applesauce banana muffin. Sounds fantastic. As it baked its aroma intoxicated. When pulled from the oven it was a vision of dreams (who doesn't dream of food?). When pulled from the pan, however, a problem was observed: the so called muffin lacked fluff. It was as dense as a wet pup. It could be dropped from a great height and not lose a crumb. When swallowed it clanked upon touch-down in the belly. Thus Kindra termed it, Ton Cake, and good for little other than a paper weight. It was amazing, really. If we had been scientists instead of bakers this error could have led to some great discovery. Alas, we are simple bakers so the tragedy had to be tossed. I'm sure our dumpster-diver friend—who passes through our neighborhood on a regular basis—appreciated the delicacy. It wasn't complete waste.

Malasada Malady
Woohoo! Malasadas! The greatest use of potatoes known to man. Shawna knew this baby was going to be a hit. She wasn't aware of the pleasure involved in the construction of such, though... at least not when it occurred at 3am—an hour all sane humans rest their baffled brains. All preliminary tests proved malasadas to be a fan favorite; a saliva inducing delight. 3am, though, has a way of finding the storm cloud in the silver lining. As we bumbled about the kitchen in drunken torpors the assembly line slowly took form: Kindra pored over the vat of boiling oil, Shawna stuffed and bagged the fried wonders, and Kenny helped out as directed with mind of mud and tongue of tune.

Observers would have thought the circus was in town as we struggled through the process.

“Yip! Yip!” Kindra began our morning dialogue. “I probably should have gotten a pair of rubber gloves like dad suggested.” She flailed her arm. “Who knew he would have been right?”

“Crazy, huh?” Kenny said.

“Oh dear.” Shawna's addition began thus. “We only have 40 minutes to get these out.”

Silence ensued as assiduousness prevailed. It didn't last. Kenny, never one to allow tension to maim his good spirits, began to belt a beautiful refrain (by beautiful we mean atrocious).

“If you're happy and you know it clap you hands! If you're happy...”

“Do you want to burn in oil, Kenny?” Kindra nipped the thistle in the bud. The girls giggled. Apparently the image of Kenny writhing in hot oil was comical.

Thus the morning progressed.

Malasadas are yummy. We are not sure, however, the sleep deprivation they require is worth the health risk. They also do not keep—they get mushy ere a day is done. It looks like they are to be axed from the menu for now. At least from deliveries.

At the end of the day
We've learned some things. Number one, baking is hard work and time consuming. Especially when we account for errors in judgement. We have also adjusted the menu. We've scaled back portions, too, according to sales data (as reflective as they are after one day). All in all, things are calmer now. People get more sleep. There definitely appears to be less stress. It's amazing how stressful unknown is. Now that we have more knowledge it's all fun and games.