This was my baking sampler (two identical boxes, one atop the other) for the job interview this morning, which, by the way, I did not get. She hired two people yesterday—first come, first served, apparently—and asked if I didn't want to keep the desserts to show to someone else.
"No, I'm good," I said. "I have like forty cupcakes, two dozen cookies, and a lot of bread puddings with homemade Challah at my house right now. I spent thirty dollars on ingredients, had to make the cupcakes twice, the cookies didn't come out as I imagined, and I didn't get any sleep, particularly after my Italian ex called me last night for the first time in well over a year and we spoke for almost two hours. No, I don't have my own bakery, but I agree they look amazing—thank God I didn't bother stuffing the cupcakes with vanilla buttercream frosting as I'd planned—and yes, I made these in my kitchen."
"Good luck," is how she responded. "That's the most important thing."
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