Tuesday 12 June 2012

The Sweet Life: Biography of a Baker...

I love to bake - which isn't exactly news to anyone who knows me well. I love to bake so much, that in spite of the fact that it's a mighty hot day out there, (and up here in my son's apartment), I am posting this blog as the scent of apple cinnamon muffins fills the air. Whatever the weather, a girl still has to eat, and I thought the muffins would be a nice accompaniment to the quinoa and spinach salads I've planned for my supper.

My love affair with baking goes back a long way. I have very early memories of watching my mother bake pies and cakes. (Mom bakes pies that can't be beat!) She quickly sensed my interest, and allowed me to "help" with her baking endeavors. I remember one incident where I got to roll out my own glob of pie crust and bake it in my doll-sized tart shells. These very tough and over-worked little gems were filled with jam and presented to my father at supper time. He seemed impressed that I'd "made them myself" and said they were great. (Which was sweet of the guy, considering the fact that he was used to my mother's divine crusts - so it's likely that he just wanted to encourage my interest in culinary arts.)

By the time I was ten or twelve I was baking often, progressing fairly rapidly from cake mixes and simple recipes to cookies, which according to my younger brother I excelled at. He would often come to me with requests to bake him cookies, saying. "Yours are better than Mom's, Shar - they're chewier!"

As a teenager I discovered a passion for baked cheesecakes, and during my twenties became proficient at baking them. My thirties were spent mastering pies and tarts. My husband doesn't "do" fruit, and Sam won't touch fruit that's cooked, so my early pies were all of the cream variety. Dan however, soon let it be known that HE would appreciate the odd apple or pumpkin pie. (Who are we fooling here? My younger son, like myself, has never met a dessert he doesn't appreciate.) I will admit that my apple pies are a bit inconsistent - in part because I make them on a whim and seldom use the best baking apples. (And there was the one time that I used salt  instead of sugar, which is a favorite story of Dan's. The poor kid actually choked down several mouthfuls before I got a taste and told him to toss the rest out!!)

So over the years I've become a good enough baker that a few friends have dubbed me "The Pastry Queen", which is flattering to say the least. It's good that I'm a decent baker, because my cooking skills remain fairly rudimentary. (I have mastered a shortish repertoire of "company meals", and when those aren't on the proposed menu I apologize in advance.)

"Main course may be iffy" I tell invited guests, "But dessert will be good!"

In spite of how much I love to bake there was one area that left me feeling daunted. For several years I refused to even attempt to make a loaf of bread. Finally, about four years ago I gave in to Todd's request to try making cinnamon buns. My first attempts were less than stellar, but after repeated efforts and recipe changes (and my discovery of a superior brand of yeast), I think I've finally got it down.

I hope that some day I'll be able to pass on my baking skills to another generation, just as my mother passed hers on to me. To date, it hasn't happened. Sam showed brief interest in learning to make cookies, but quickly got discouraged when he learned that you can't just throw everything into the bowl at once and stir it together. Dan is the least domestic male on earth, and only cares that food appears before him. MAYBE someday there will be grandchildren - maybe even a long overdue female child who will want to bake with Grandma. That would be the sweetest thing ever in a life that is already pretty sweet!

The Sweet Life: Biography of a Baker (By Sharon Flood Kasenberg - June 12, 2012)

In childhood I helped Mother bake
by coating pans with grease,
and sometimes flour I'd sift and shake
as duties did increase.
By ten I could bake from a mix;
make simple recipes-
before too long I learned some tricks
and taste buds I could please.
My teenage years were filled with treats
to tempt most any tongue -
my praises, for producing sweets
were oft' by others sung.
It took a while to master pie -
(Good crusts are difficult)
One, apple-filled, I can't deny
was seasoned well with salt!
Through practice crusts have passed the test,
they're flaky and they're light:
My bread, I fear, was not as blessed -
Took years to get THAT right!
Those yellow packets filled with yeast
would NOT cooperate -
though leavening I did increase
loaves barely did inflate.
Persistence once again has paid -
now all will go as planned -
since change to recipe was made,
and yeast? Another brand!
Now I can make a loaf or bun
with texture light as air -
and gooey rolls of cinnamon
I almost hate to share!
At fifty I've acquired the skill
to decent loaf present -
Of home baked buns we eat our fill
and husband is content.