While shopping at a small Asian market I came across this:
Minute Ginger Cake! There was also Minute Vanilla cake, but I went with the ginger. It promised to cook in two minutes in the microwave. When I turned the package over, I saw that it was manufactured in Thailand. I also saw this:
Hmm. It expired in March 2009. Risk food poisoning or make a two minute ginger cake? Best check the ingredients:
I’d bet a couple of years in a Thai warehouse wouldn’t matter to any of this stuff, right? Why, after two years on the shelf those “edible fatty acids” might become “not just edible but actually delicious fatty acids,” like a steak after a good dry age.
So I brought the minute cake mix home and unwrapped it. Inside was a bag of hopefully edible powder and a sturdy plastic cup with fill lines written in every language of the developed world. Seriously, this plastic cup could give the Hartsfield-Jackson airport train a run for its dinero. See that language with all the umlauts? I’m guessing it’s Finnish. Finns seem to like vowels and umlauts better than anyone in the world. And I bet they wouldn’t say nöö to a nice warm, sliced of dry-aged ginger minute cake.
You’re supposed to reach the black fill line with milk, the red with oil, and then you add the powder and an egg and give it a good stir.
A cup of goop, waiting for its rays. Per the directions, you can add fresh fruit. Hmm…choices, choices…..
Oh, why not. Might as well live large.
It emerges looking like this:
I upend it onto a plate, and then call the cat:
Actually, I wait for it to cool before slicing it open:
Well, it was very gingery and the raspberries did help. The texture was kind of dense, damp and spongy, like some kind of futon padding. I did go back for the fourth mini slice that all but finished one half, so I might give it ups for that “cake, any cake will do” mood. If I experience any ill effects, I’ll be sure to let you know.