Baking Challenge Lady returned today:

Her: Is this a carrot cake?
Me: No.  It’s a fudge cake.
Her: Oh, so it’s a carrot cake.
Me: No.  It’s a fudge cake.
Her: A fudge cake.  Interesting.
Me: By the way, I never caught your name.
Her: <her name>, what’s yours? (Despite that she sought me by name on our first meeting)
Me: Terry.
Her: Oh, I’ve wanted to meet you.
Me: You did, last week, when you asked for me by name.
Her: It is you! (What?)
Me: Anyway, your palms feel rough, would you like some skin cream? *Present bottle of our firm’s skin cream*
Her: Thank you.  *Takes dollop and rubs it onto the back of her hand* So you made this from scratch?
Me: I do with most of my stuff, except for pie doughs, I suck at pie doughs.  And you?
Her: Usually, but I take shortcuts like using cake mix and buying the frosting in those little cans.

Ah… Mind you, if I were really a purist I would steep the vanilla beans myself and squeeze the egg out of the chicken but I’m confident in saying buying cake mix and frosting is not considered baking from scratch.  I am now not only fighting for myself, my department, or my sex, but for every person who’s ever f*ed up recipe but gotten away with it because it was made with grandma’s recipe which included things like rounded 1/4 tablespoons, sweet milk (from a time when buttermilk was common) and considered instant yeast the devil’s powder.  I will win, and it will be glorious.