This morning I experienced my first Cinco de Mayo drama. Okay this is not entirely true because there was this one time when I thought I had a bottle of tequila and a line up of people ready for shots only to discover that I must have drank it (who knows when) and had to find an open liquor store which is much more difficult in British Columbia than people might expect.
Anyway, today was massive drama which ended with a sticky car and a stressed out me in need of a stiff Margarita. Allow me to set the scene. I was hosting a Cinco de Mayo potluck at work and decided that I would bring flan. Straight up: I LOVE FLAN … And ate a lot of it in Mexico.As any presentation conscious foodie does, I made a test flan on Saturday just to make sure that the “real” flan would turn out. Needless to say, it was perfect and my Husband, the Baby and I shared a moment as we huddled around the test flan and devoured it within minutes. Flan is a family affair.
So there is am with a car full of streamers , a piñata and a flan on my way to work.
Problem: where does one put a flan in the car if you are driving yourself to work?
I opted for the floor in front of the passenger seat. The logic was that is was flatter and lower to the ground which would mean that it would move around less (for some reason I thought that was a thing).
It started off ok. Out the driveway, down the hill and we were actually ok. There was some moderate wiggling but it seemed like we were going to make it. WRONG
All of a sudden I had to break. It was not even a hard break but a slight crevice appeared in the flan on the floor. No problem.. Just a little crevice. I then had to accelerate (gingerly) up the hill and it was at point that out of that little crevice came spilling the caramel. It was a flan-cano! (you know, like a volcano but spewing caramel sauce and rogue bits of custard). There are times in life when you have but a split second to make a life altering decision. Do I stop and try to adjust the flan on the floor or do I go for it? I went with it!
As I bounced my way to work, I realized two things:
1. There are a lot more hills and sharp turns on my way to work than I had realized.
2. Who cares? It’s just flan!
When I finally arrived I had a mess. The flan itself was not all that worse for wear aside from the fact that the caramel sauce that was supposed to be on the bottom was swirling around the top. The floor of my car however was another story entirely. All I can say is thank god i don’t live in Australia. My Father-in-Law keeps a jar sealed in his car with his Mentos inside because ” the ants will eat through anything that isn’t glass”. The ants would love this!
And so after the flan had been flipped onto its plate and busted into by the eager eaters, it’s journey to the potluck really didn’t matter. It was good, damned good and that was all that matters. As I look over at it mangled and picked at I realize that I should maybe not have put myself through the stress of 40 minutes of spraying caramel and sloshing egg. I should have let it go and just allowed nature to take it’s course and the flan to giggle around as nature intended it to. Maybe that is the life lesson after all.
I do still have to clean the rug in my car though… The novelty of the lesson might fade a bit.