HANNAH |
Hannah is a rare one in London. I met her through a friend as opposed to directly. I only saw her at occasions where I would be having a fit about my hair, severe dance attacks, or at a gaga inspired Halloween party where I was so convincing in drag I even scared myself. She must have thought I was nuts.
For some reason though she liked me and we started meeting up for lunch (we work very close to each other). We became friends in our in right and then I left the country.
DR happened, New York happened and now London is happening again. We picked up where we left off but we also understand each other a bit better than before. Hannah has no problem telling me how it is or how she sees it and though I don't always agree with her, it is nice to have her objective opinion.
For a while now I've been wanting to scrap a project I've been working on for far too long. I do care about the project but it has exhausted me and my resources. It feels as though it will never get done and even when it does, will it serve its purpose at all? Hannah simply stated:
"There's something to be said about finishing."
I wanted to smack her.
The following day I baked a tres leches cake. Normally baking is a stress free event where I make something I love to eat (I love cake) but this occasion was far from normal. It was the first time I baked in my current flat and whenever baking in a different oven (especially old ones) you have to expect different results. My cake didn't rise. Not at all. I followed the recipe to a t. But I had invited friends around to eat the cake and so I started again. I put the cake in the oven and again it did not rise.
It was now about two in the morning and I wanted to break something. I decided to quit and just text everyone in the morning not to come but then I heard Hannah's stupid little voice.
"There's something to be said about finishing."
I threw the recipe aside (which is a big no no in baking) and I stuck in and did what felt right. I changed all my measurements and even used ingredients the recipe didn't call for. When I was happy with how the batter looked I popped it in the oven and literally sat in front of it and I watched it... I watched it rise.
The following day people came over, Hannah included, and they ate my cake.
It was glorious.
A London Recap: Part 8 of 10
Reviewed by Christópher Abreu Rosario
on
05:30
Rating:
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