Like many “geniuses”, when it comes to the simple things, count me out. Cooking has been one of those things for me. It wasn’t until I tagged along with my college roommate last year, that I began to see that cooking wasn’t such a scary thing.

I no longer burn down the kitchen, which is not an exaggeration if we recall a young Claudia and disconnected plugs. From that moment on, I believe, I have never been trusted or trusted myself to survive in kitchens alone. I’m dysfunctional surrounded by ingredients and cookware. I told an elderly friend once, “I can’t cook,” and while I believe it is true, she told me otherwise: I have not given it enough patience.

The latter is far more true, so it came as  a shock to me when I managed to post the following via the Twitter:

And the tweet was in reference to the following (of course, not posted to save Twitter from its blinding awesomeness):

They look nothing like the box–don’t remind me. The pancakes sure tasted amazing though, so take that imaginary teasing reader. The pancake batter mum left for me to try my experiment allowed for 4 pancakes, and that was plenty.

Like all geniuses, I learn from experiences, and this morning I learned an important lesson: Melted chocolate is a gem of delights… and also, if you plan to conquer fear, apply yourself–yes, I’m coming after you next, calculus.