Nietzsche’s Angel Food Cake

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  1. Allow the angel to reach room temperature. Then kill it.
  2. Kill God. Set Him aside.
  3. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.
  4. Ecstatically whip, as if possessed by a storm-wind of freedom, 1-1/2 cups of excellent egg whites with 1/4 tsp. salt and 1-1/2 tsp. cream of tartar. Continue until peaks are as if raised to their own heights and given wings in a fine air, a robust air.
  5. Gradually add 3/4 cup sugar, about 3 tbsp. at a time.
  6. You are brilliant.
  7. Now, add 1 tsp. vanilla and 1/4 tsp. almond extract, and then sift together 1-1/4 cups flour and 3/4 cup sugar.
  8. Blend in God and the angel. Emboldened, add the egg mixture.
  9. Gaze into the überbatter. The überbatter will gaze into you.
  10. While prancing about in a frenzy of self-satisfaction and anticipation, use a rubber scraper to push the überbatter into an ungreased 10″ tube pan, for it is destined to be there.
  11. Bake on a lower rack until done, usually 35-40 minutes, while reciting to the upper rack a long, convoluted anecdote about your childhood.
  12. Invert the tube pan over a bottle for a few hours. Then impetuously rap the pan. Shout, “Aha!” and slide a knife along the pan’s insides.
  13. Call what tumbles out a cake if you dare. Call it miraculous even.
  14. Eat it. It is delicate, morbid, loveable, and you will die depressed, delirious, and overweight.

Image via Blissfully Delicious.
Brilliant text by Rebecca Coffey via Timothy McSweeney’s Rough Beasts Have Decent Posture.

This entry was posted in Messed Up by Heretic. Bookmark the permalink.

About Heretic

I design video games for a living, write fiction, political theory and poetry for personal amusement, and train regularly in Western European 16th century swordwork. On frequent occasion I have been known to hunt for and explore abandoned graveyards, train tunnels and other interesting places wherever I may find them, but there is absolutely no truth to the rumor that I am preparing to set off a zombie apocalypse. Nothing that will stand up in court, at least. I use paranthesis with distressing frequency, have a deep passion for history, anthropology and sociological theory, and really, really, really hate mayonnaise. But I wash my hands after the writing. Promise.

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