who's in the kitchen

Misplaced cake, misplaced Jerry, all worked out


Yesterday on our way to sheva brachot, for Jerry’s cousin in Queens, I, as usual, was elected to enter the address into the GPS. As most of you know by now, Jerry is not very tech savvy.

I’ve tried to show him that all he has to do is hit location, then where it says “street address” enter the address number, then the street name, and so on. He’s always nervous he’s not going do it correctly. I did show him how to return home. One simple step: Just hit “home.”

About a month after I showed him how to get home, I was catering a party in Roslyn. I had set the entire party up the Thursday and Friday before the motzei Shabbos event. After Shabbos I left the house to layout all the food. To my horror, as soon as I reached the party venue, I realized I forgot one of the cakes; it was a two-tier piece of art that was to be the centerpiece of the pastry table.

I froze for a second and then figured I would call Jerry, and ask him to hand it to an Uber driver who would deliver it to me. He was planning on visiting his daughter and grandson in New Jersey, but I was hoping I would catch him before he left. He answered on the first ring. Thankfully, he said he had just left and was on Rockaway Turnpike. Being he had just left, I didn’t feel badly asking him to drive home and leave the large box outside our front door, for the Uber driver. Being the good sport, that he is, he said yes right away. I called Uber and set up a pick up for 12 minutes later. I explained that he would pick up a box and bring it to Roslyn. He said it wouldn’t be a problem.

Fifteen minutes later he called me and said there was no box. I called Jerry and asked if he was in the house having trouble finding the cake. The conversation went something like this: “Actually, I’m not home yet,” Jerry said calmly.” “How could that be?” I shouted, “you said you just left house, and was on Rockaway Turnpike.” He went on to say, “I’m actually lost in the airport.” I really tried to keep my cool. “How in he world did you end up lost in the airport?” He said that he had to make a U turn, but it wasn’t allowed so he kept driving, and ended up in the airport. It turns out that he wasn’t at all close to home when I called. At that point I told him to just go straight to New Jersey.

I called the Uber driver back and asked if he could wait a few more minutes. He said he called all my neighbors, but no one answered. I called a friend two blocks away and asked if she would run over and go through my garage to get the cake box. I told her I would text her he code.

Of course Siri misheard my voice text and printed the wrong number. At this point the Uber driver was at my house for 25 minutes. I had the idea that I had given my friend the wrong code, but as she was texting me, Jerry entered the house through the front door and opened the garage from the inside.

The cake arrived before the party started. When I questioned Jerry later, as to why he didn’t just press “home” when he was lost, he said he just didn’t think of it. “Weren’t you frustrated?” I asked. He replied “I was ok driving around, but the thought of your reaction to my getting lost and driving around, is another story.

That incident happened about two years ago, but not much has changed. When we got into he car for the trip home, from the sheva brachot, Jerry asked me to program the GPS. I said you see the thing that says “Home? — Press it!” And he did, all by himself. 

Best part of the ride home, was that we had the treat of giving a lift back to Woodmere, to one of my favorite fans, Mrs. Feit. No matter, when or where I see her, she away has this wonderful huge smile and cheerful greeting. And no matter what I wrote about in that week’s article, she always compliments me. I’m always honored when she does, as she’s a very intelligent, worldly, well read and very interesting woman. Thanks Mrs. Feit, for all your kind words, it means a lot to me!

Taking about fans, this is a great recipe I found online at Savvy in the Kitchen that’s really delicious.

Buttery Fan Dinner Rolls [Dairy]


3/4 cup warm milk (110 degrees)

1/4 cup granulated sugar

1 large egg (Room temperature)

1 large egg yolk (Room temperature)

1 tablespoon instant or rapid rise yeast

3-1/2 cups all purpose flour

2 teaspoons salt

8 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into 8 pieces and softened

4 tablespoons unsalted butter melted

In the bowl of an electric mixer, add milk, sugar, egg, egg yolk, and yeast, and mix a little with a fork until combined a bit, then let it sit until it gets foamy, about 3 minutes. Add flour and salt, and mix with a dough hook, on medium-low speed, until dough is combined, about 2 minutes.

With mixer running, add in softened butter pieces, 1 at a time, until incorporated. Continue to kneed, until the dough is smooth.

Transfer dough, to a large, greased bowl, cover tightly with plastic wrap, and let rise at room temperature, for 1-1/2 hours, until dough has doubled in size.

Spray a 12 cup muffin tin, with a non-stick spray. Set aside.

Press down on dough to deflate, and transfer to a lightly floured surface.

Divide dough into two equal balls, and roll one ball into a rectangle shape of 15×12, with long side parallel to counter’s edge.

Using a pizza wheel, cut dough vertically into 6 strips, that measure about 2-1/2 inches wide by 12 inches long.

Brush tops of strips with butter, and stack strips of dough, onto each other, buttered to un-buttered side.

Using a sharp knife, cut stacked dough strips, into 6 equal stacks, and place stacks cut side up into each of 6 prepared muffin cups. Repeat with remaining dough ball, and 1 tablespoon melted butter.

Cover muffin tin loosely with plastic wrap, and let dough rise until doubled at room temperature for 1-1/2 hours.

Adjust oven rack to upper-middle position, and heat oven to 350 degrees. Bake until golden brown, 20 to 25 minutes, rotating muffin tin halfway through baking.

Brush rolls with remaining 2 tablespoons melted butter. Let cool in muffin tin for 5 minutes, and transfer to a wire rack. Serve warm, or at room temperature.