Everything I Own

I had big plans to make a king cake this year for Mardi Gras.  I grew up eating them every year as a kid and always loved them!  I'd sometimes find them at HEB when I lived in Austin, so I'd buy one when I could, but they were never, ever as good as the ones my uncle and my dad's best friend would send us from Louisiana.  You can't find king cake in stores here, so I got it in my head that I'd make one from scratch. 

I went out and bought the gold, purple, and green sprinkles.  I made sure I had all the ingredients on hand.  And I set to work in the kitchen over the weekend.

Three times I tried, and three times I failed.  A baker, I am not.  So I have no amazing pictures to post, unless you want to see horrible dough in our trash can.  You don't want to see that.

I officially hate yeast.  I'm pretty sure that, at least for the foreseeable future, the only bread I'll be making at home will come from a box. 

And no, this title has nothing to do with Mardi Gras, cake, eating, or bread, except that it's my favorite song by the band Bread.


The end.