by: Annabelle Pan, Lydia Liu
Graphics Editor, Public Relations Manager

Only four years late to the trend, we attempted the Blind, Deaf, Mute Baking Challenge as a group of overconfident troublemakers who are horrible at anything kitchen-related. During the challenge, each person removes one of three senses — sight, hearing, or speech — and the team must work together to bake using broken, limited communication. After following, or attempting to follow an online tiramisu recipe, we ended up with a soggy pan of bitterness. At least it was edible. Through the experience, we identified the best ways to enjoy yourself in the baking process.

Before starting the challenge, make sure that you are the one to claim muteness. You might get rage-baited by your so-called friends when they tell you to “use your words” during the challenge. You must endure the difficult task of coming up with understandable hand gestures. Despite the struggles, you made the best decision because you can freely harass the blind friend without their knowing who it is. Poke them. Tickle them without fear of retribution. Steal ingredients directly out of their hands. Guide them confidently towards the trash can when they ask where the sink is.

If you do get stuck being blind, develop trust issues immediately. Every hand that grabs yours to “help” is a threat. Every ingredient someone places in front of you is probably salt when they say it’s sugar. Your teammates are not your friends right now. They are gremlins with a mission to annoy you. Don’t worry; you can still fight back. Swing your arms around like a torpedo while “searching” for the fridge. Scream so loudly that even the deaf person can hear you. You can even smear your batter-covered hands on everyone in range. Remind them that you are a menace to society, even without your sight.

The deaf participant appears to have the easiest job, which is precisely why it is the most psychologically damaging. You cannot hear the chaos around you. You cannot hear the blind person walking directly toward the open oven. You cannot hear the sound of something splatting on the floor or the bickering that ensues. You simply exist in peaceful, blissful ignorance while sanity crumbles three feet away. The best thing to do when you’re deaf during this challenge is to be as unhelpful as possible. Shake your head at the mute person’s hand gestures. Give the wrong instructions to your blind friend. Ignore the frantic taps on your shoulder begging for help. Show them that you feel no sense of collective responsibility.

The final product sat on the table looking like a three-year-old tried to make breakfast in bed. It was soggy, bitter, and unfinished. That raises the question: who holds the blame for the oversaturated ladyfingers? The mute did not successfully communicate the full instructions. The deaf gave badly-interpreted directions. The blind failed to understand unspoken ideas. What to do now with the evidence of our failure? We obviously covered it up with almost-expired whipped cream and offered it to innocent victims.

No friends were (severely) harmed in the making of this review.