This is the story of how I came to purchase an Easy-Bake Oven at the age of 26.
Couldn't I provide myself with something I haven't had since high school: a week of home-cooked meals?
Day 1: Pizza!
Next up was the dough.
I had questions about the "Egg Wash Mix" but like a good kid, I decided to keep them to myself. But when I saw that the instructions said to put the cheese in a bag and squeeze it out onto the pizza, I said, "Get the fuck out." Instead, I sort of smudged the cheese on top and prepared the pizzas for entry into the oven.
I let the pizza "bake" for 20 minutes and then pushed it out of the oven, only to find that it hadn't baked at all. Apparently you have to push the pizza into the very middle part for it to cook. I pushed the pizza into the very specific, correct place and waited for my tiny pizza babies to finish.
There is no timer in Easy-Bake land, so I checked the pizzas three times over an hour, waiting for the pizzas to look even a little crisp. Finally, once I saw the slightest shade of brown, I took them out.
Here’s what the pizza bird bites looked like!
Day 2: Party Pretzel Dippers
I could not even swallow them, which is so weird for me, because I typically choose swallow over spit.