I know you remember the (what-a-nice) dish post of a while back. I was confronted with a similar situation a couple of days ago. You remember my flu, right? I didn’t feel too good Sunday evening, so I asked Papa to go to the store and get cake and topping for our strawberries. He did. The cake came in a nice dish. I ran a knife around the outside of the pan and deposited the cake on a plate, and went on with dinner.
I was doing the dishes, and I said, “I wonder if I could bake in this?” Actually, I know I could have, I have some “disposable” pans downstairs that are plastic, but withstand the heat of the over. I often bake cakes in them, and take them to places that need cakes. I don’t worry if I have to leave early, but they always return, since they are so nice.
Papa said, “What-a-nice-dish?” And he and D3 giggled and high-fived. I washed the darn thing out and put it in the place I put things that are to be recycled. And frowned at them, a little.
I want you to know that it was hard to get rid of that cake pan, but it went out with the recycling on Tuesday, but not before I took a picture to remember it by.
