Baked Failures

This week I triumphantly went into the world of baking, confident of the good taste, the perfect crust I would make and the smiles of joy that I would receive from a grateful husband and he spooned forkfuls of delicious pastries into his giant mouth. Alas, my delicacies had horrific results. To be more specific: I made a terribly sweet and burnt apple tart (using a French recipe I translated on Google translate), and an under-cooked potato loaf with a recipe I used from a Domican friar (no translation needed).

Wouldn't it be great if all of our mistakes could be as easy to see as a badly baked pastry? "Woah, I should have never accepted that job, or made that turn, or ironed when sleepy, or trusted those morons, or tried to please those imbeciles." I wonder what my life mistakes would look like if they took the form of a badly baked good? Why are they called "baked goods" and what do you call a "baked good" if it isn't good? Would it be called a "baked evil" or a "baked darkness" if it burnt?

I wish I could scold myself in French like a properly annoyed French pastry chef. 

 My teeth hurt just looking at this and reliving the insane amount of sugar I put in.

A proper apple tart should look like this.

Comme la merde!

Under baked potato bread

A much better baked and warm potato loaf. 

Things to contemplate. So here we go for this week's failures. We ate them, of course, in this house no food goes to waste. With each bite we contemplated our next dentist visit, and also how to  make better baked goods next time. Note to self: never translate a pastry recipe using Google translate from French to English. And another note to self: when the Domincan friar was letting his bread rise for one hour it was not a human hour it was a heavenly one which equals 24 units of hours.