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You ever had a family gathering where everyone pretends to be a chef, and suddenly, flan becomes the battleground? Aunt Mildred's like, "I make the best flan in town!" Then Uncle Bob's like, "Hold my spatula, Mildred; I've been perfecting my secret flan recipe for decades!" And you're sitting there thinking, "Can we just order pizza?" It's always a competition with family recipes. My grandma has this ancient flan recipe that's been passed down for generations. She guards it like it's the secret to eternal life. I asked her for the recipe once, and she said, "Darling, you have to earn the right to know the flan secrets." I was like, "Grandma, it's sugar, eggs, and milk; it's not the Da Vinci Code!
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I'm convinced that flan is an alien dessert sent to Earth to test our culinary resilience. It's like they observed humans and thought, "Let's give them something that looks easy but confuses the heck out of them!" Imagine explaining flan to an extraterrestrial being: "So, you take eggs, milk, and sugar, mix them up, then throw it in the oven. But here's the twist – it has to wobble like it's auditioning for a dance show. Got it?"
And don't get me started on caramelizing sugar for flan. That's like the initiation into the secret society of dessert makers. You have to stand there, swirling sugar in a pan, hoping it doesn't turn into a burnt mess. If aliens are watching, they must be thinking, "These Earthlings sure go through a lot for a jiggly treat.
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Dating is like flan. You see, in the beginning, it looks all sweet and promising. You're excited, thinking you've found the perfect match. But then, as time goes on, you realize there's a wobble, a jiggle, and some unexpected surprises. I went on a date recently, and the guy seemed perfect—charming, handsome, until dessert arrived. He ordered flan. Now, I'm not saying flan is a deal-breaker, but if you can't handle a dessert without it turning into a messy situation, how are you going to handle a relationship?
Dating is all about finding someone who can appreciate your wobbles, your imperfections. Like flan, we're all a little jiggly on the inside.
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You ever notice how the word "flan" sounds like a disappointed frog trying to say "plan"? It's like, "I had a great flan, but it wasn't part of my flan!" Seriously, who came up with the name? I bet they were just playing Scrabble and thought, "Hey, let's use all the leftover letters. F-L-A-N. Flan!" I went to a fancy restaurant the other day, and they were like, "Would you like dessert?" And I thought, "Sure, why not?" Then they brought out this mysterious, jiggly thing on a plate. It looked like it was trying to escape! I asked the waiter, "What's this?" He said, "It's flan." I said, "No, seriously, what's the escape plan for this thing?"
Seems like flan is always trying to be more than it is. It's like the overachiever of desserts. "I'm not just a custard; I'm a flan-tastic experience!" Calm down, flan, you're not changing the world; you're just wobbling on a plate.
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