Okay, so this was a stressful undertaking. But about 50% of that stress was completely self-imposed and unwarranted because I expected it to be stressful. From the moment I learned what a Baked Alaska was, it seemed people were lining up to tell me not to make it. Not in a “your thighs will never forgive you” sort of way, but in a “you’ll have to scrape your self-esteem off of the kitchen floor” way. It’s been relayed in a hundred different ways and through a multitude of mediums: Baked Alaskas are difficult. So, naturally, I was a hair afraid of this dessert.
