 |
This is not Betty Crocker's Gluten-Free Bisquick mix. Nope. |
Is Mercury in retrograde?
And if so, Darling, do I believe it can wreak havoc with recipes? I started out with a different approach to this peach cobbler recipe, you see. I thought I'd try out the new Betty Crocker Gluten-Free
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Bisquick mix I bought this week. I imagined a golden topped biscuity crust you could sink your teeth into, a melt-in-your-mouth forkful of shortcake, dripping with warm and sticky-sweet juice.
But what I got was a bone white mound of anemic dough (scarily reminiscent of Play Dough
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) baked into what can only be described as yesterday's mashed potatoes. It didn't even
try to turn golden. And it didn't melt in your mouth like a biscuit. It just sat there on your tongue. Flavorless. Bored. Expecting to be admired without effort. Like those fame junkies
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who are famous for simply being famous. They haven't actually accomplished anything to garner their celebrity status. They just nurture a deeper narcissistic ambition than your average high school beauty queen. They expect adulation because they exist.
Like an awful lot of the gluten-free foods churned out by corporate
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entities.
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