The Heat is On

Well, well, well...look at what I made!

That right there, folks, is a Lemon Yogurt Cheesecake Cup with Raspberries. ZOMG! I baked! These are super good and light and lemony and fruity and creamy and - BONUS - low fat/low cal. I had to eat three just to make sure they were as good as I thought. Double Bonus: I didn't burn any of them! I'm growing up, you guys!

So there I am, slaving away over a hot oven, and it occurs to me that for the first time this season, I'm making something fruity and fun, while sweating in my own house. IT HAS BEGUN. The "sweating while doing ordinary things" phase of Minnesota weather is just about to kick in. It's not even hot yet, but the sun today cooked my house from the inside out. (Oh, also? We forgot to turn off the heat once it got above 60 degrees so our radiators were still pumping out their hot flashes. Whoops! It's off now, FYI.) But still, my house, being so old, basically refuses to be a normal temperature. In the winter, it's freezing, in the summer, hotter than Hades. So as I'm trying to cook something all light and fresh, I myself have turned into a human Dutch oven. There is something a TEENY bit unappetizing about trying not to drip sweat into a delectable dessert. "Why did you add so much salt to this sugary dessert, Pharon?" I assure you it was unintentional.

But there I was, frustrated and sweaty and yelling at the stupid mixer to "COME ON! Mix faster! Why is this not creamy yet?! How, in God's name, can you not be CREAMY YET?! How hard can it possibly be to just MIX? I can hardly breathe it's so hot in here! HURRY UP!!!" Not exactly my proudest moment, I admit.

Cooking for me is stressful enough. It's even MORE stressful when I'm putting off the part where I have to stick my face into the oven to receive a 350-degree punch in the face, so I end up burning whatever is unlucky enough to be in there. At least in the winter I'm not afraid to boil water or leave a crock pot on.

Cooking. Why do you elude me so? Why must it be so difficult for us to be friends? Why do we hate each other's company so much? I try and you try and no matter how well it's all going, something in the fates is destined to ruin whatever we've got cooking. Be it a scorching hot room, a faulty microwave, the absence of eggs in the refrigerator even though I JUST BOUGHT SOME LAST WEEK...whatever. Cooking and I are Romeo and Juliet. Star-crossed lovers, blindly trying to force an impossible relationship despite the objection of every element. And, sadly, my biggest fear is that I will poison someone, just like Juliet did. To herself. That was just a bonehead move on her part...mine, at least, will be accidental.

The final product, tasty as it may be, is just sitting on the cooling racks. Mocking me. A constant, delicious reminder that, despite the outcome, this was a hard-fought battle I do not wish to recreate any time soon. It was, most certainly, too hot in the kitchen. I should find the nearest exit and skedaddle on outta there.

Maybe I should just stockpile my freezer and fridge with foods I make in the Fall and early Spring only. Then I'm not battling my fear of mice in the winter, or roasting myself on a spit in the summer. Or hey! Maybe we should just turn our heat off.

P.S. As I write this, I'm absently watching the Miami Heat vs. Dallas Mavericks basketball game. If only out of sheer frustration out of this whole night, I'm really hoping the stupid Heat loses big time. Also, I'm hoping they lose because, uh, I hate them. Stupid Heat...