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I’d combined the meringue and the almond mix, spread the result on greaseproof paper, which I assumed was the same thing as baking parchment, (nope, it’s not). Meanwhile, Alex had combined about 1/5 of the original intended quantity of Garam Masala, and stuck it in the oven. We were sitting pretty.

Which was, of course, when our evil viewers decided that we should commence the Emergency Ravioli.

We were terrified of the ravioli recipe. However, I’d cunningly stolen a march on the entire thing by agreeing with Alex that I would, later on, fry the chilli, a process almost guaranteed to result in my choking my lungs out on capiascin fumes. In exchange, he’d agreed to undertake the – apparently less lethal – pasta making.

I am The Cunning.

See, the pasta-making recipe isn’t your regular pasta. This is super-pasta. Uber-pasta. Holy-crap-that’s-going-to-take-a-while pasta.

Whilst Alex continued to very slowly move his hand in a circle, I got back to my Dacquoises, which had by now nicely cooked.

I cut out little circles, stuck ’em back in the oven, and read some Twitter replies. Alex continued to move his hand in a circle.

I ate a kit-kat, captured some video, looked through the rest of the recipe.

Alex continued to move his hand in – yes, you’ve guessed it – a circle.

Feeling rather smug, I decided to start on the agliotti sauce. I’d had a quick look over the thing, and it mostly seemed to be a rather relaxed process of heating and blending a mixture of marscapone and beans.

And then I realised I’d failed to read one key line.

“First, peel all the fava beans.”

kamikazecookery http://twitpic.com/6i165 – Sisyphus had it easy

http://twitter.com/kamikazecookery/status/2010379340

Oh, cock.