For awhile now, I have been trying to get Jon's grandmother to teach me what I am doing all wrong when it comes to making kolaches.
She seriously laughed out loud when she found out I was stirring everything by hand. "Use a mixer!" Okay, Grandma H, I'll do that.
Grandma H lives about 2 hours away. She says, "Call me when you want to learn." Well I have called, and called, and called. "Now's not a good time" is always her answer. There is never a good time. I swear his family has something against me.
"She has to prepare for it," Jon informs me, "She makes like 12 dozen at a time. It takes a lot of mental preparation, plus she has to go to the store."
I offered to buy everything in advance and bring it the 200 miles so that she doesn't have to go out. No luck.
"THE HELL WITH IT times two!!!!!!!
I decide to take another stab at it on my own. I gave the stand mixer a whirl, and I think I burned up the motor. The kolache dough climbed the mixing blades, embedding itself in the machine's plastic casing.
I guess I will have to register for a new one if Jon and I ever get engaged.