Baking

My maternal grandfather was a baker. I never saw him as that, he was always just this old guy, with thick glasses watching baseball games on the TV and cheating at over-sized crossword puzzles. My mom would tell me of times, when she was about my age, how she'd go to the bakery with her dad and he'd show her how to make rolls. She needed both of her hands to create one roll and it often was a big blob, whereas her dad would roll dough in each hand and turn out two perfect rolls in seconds. My mom would get so upset, not understanding how his were perfect and her roll was not. He explained that he spent everyday making these, that over time and with lots of practice she too could to the same. Thing was, to the best of my knowledge, she had no interest in that and so never pursued it.

My mother hates cooking, at least that's the impression I've always had. When Christmas time grew near and it was time to bake cookies and decorate the tree my dad would take my brother and me to a museum or other such place for the day so mom could have the house to herself. I never learned to cook or bake from my parents. It was something I discovered on my own.

My first attempt in the kitchen was Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. This was a complete failure. I added the cheese powder to the water when I first started boiling it, then the noodles. I noted it was time to drain the water, and there went all my "cheese sauce" down the drain. The noodles were naked and pathetic. I was undaunted by this and grabbed a bunch of Kraft cheese slices and unwrapped them from their clear little envelopes. They didn't melt as I had hoped so I had a rather globby mess of noodle goo. My brother Zak, about 9 or 10 at the time, was astute enough to point out, "That's not how mom does it."

My second attempt at "cooking" was when I was about 13. I tried making chocolate chip cookies. Mom was NOT home that Saturday, I don't recall where she was, just that I had to finish my chocolate chip cookie experiment before she returned. I gathered all the necessary ingredients and began my first baking endeavor. I unwrapped the butter stick and melted it in the microwave, then I added the eggs. They stared frying in the butter. I thought, "oh boy, this isn't good." Somehow I knew that wasn't quite right. I tried removing the fried egg from the melted butter, but it was useless. I think I just continued on as if nothing had ever happened. Needless to say the cookies didn't turn out. If my mom ever wondered what happened to the butter or eggs she never said anything to me. Either I covered my tracks well enough or she took pity on me.

My mom, who hates to cook, can make Macaroni and Cheese and cookies, but me, a twelve year old kid, couldn't even manage that. I learned that you have to read the directions all the way to the end. There aren't any shortcuts when learning to cook or bake.

I left the kitchen wizardry to my mom for the next eight to ten or so years. It wasn't until I was living on my own that I attempted to cook or bake. Single, living alone in a $350/month rent studio apartment, where I was completely responsible for the groceries, I once again gave cooking a chance. Recalling my two previous kitchen experiences I decided baking just wasn't in the cards for me. I tried my hand at pasta. I figured enough time had passed that now I should be able to boil water, cook some noodles, and enjoy them without having to toss it in the trash. Fortunately it worked out. I discovered that pasta is very forgiving. You can test it along the way. Try a piece as it's tumbling about in the roiling water. Crunchy? Let it boil some more and try another piece in a minute. Not crunchy? Great! Soggy, uh oh! But, with time and experience, like grandpa said, you will get better. He was right, I did.

However, it was several more years before I attempted baking. Still single I figured baking would be a cheap source of entrainment. Basic staples like butter, milk, eggs, flour, sugar, and vanilla aren't too expensive to experiment with. I had an old cook book with a banana nut bread recipe. Not sure what inspired me to try it, but I did and was successful. Again, reading the directions all the way to the end is key. I baked banana nut bread so regularly, out of habit more than anything, that I developed a great intuition for how the batter should be. I began trying different things and found that as long as the batter has the consistency of being just a bit sticky, not runny, not stiff, somewhere in the middle, it will almost always turn out - assuming the oven temperature is even and accurate.

Now, over twenty years after my first disastrous chocolate chip cookie experiment I still enjoy baking. My chocolate chip cookies and various breads usually turn out perfectly. I like to think I inherited something from my now deceased grandfather. I only wish I had this interest in baking while he was still alive. I'd love to ask him about his baking experiences, what kinds of mishaps he had in the kitchen, what his favorite item to bake was. For me, it's a variety of different mini-muffins. It used to be banana nut bread, but then I tried an apricot, white chocolate chip, macadamia nut muffin that's really fantastic. Then, I made some lemon blueberry muffins and I think, "No, these are my favorite!" But, it doesn't really matter what I bake, it's actually the process and the smell from the oven that I enjoy, and of course sharing baked goods with friends and family.