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Saturday, March 8, 2008

Let them eat cake!



I really love to bake. There's just something about the sweet smells and tastes of baking that I have always loved. Nothing like flour -sugar- eggs- The KitchenAid stand mixer- greasing cookie sheets- icing cupcakes - the warm oven- and lacing long pieces of pie crust into a lattice. I've said it already on this blog but Grandma taught me to bake. She loved it. In fact she baked so often, usually for other people, that my Grandpa learned to ask "Is this for us? Or are you giving it away???" before indulging in one of her sweet treats. I remember standing on a kitchen chair, pulled up to the counter top, and leaning over the back of the chair to see what was being stirred about in the big white mixer. Oh wonder of wonders.
I regret that this first baking experience here at the Whisk was not very worthy of the loving way in which I was taught to bake. It was borderline disaster. Mostly just another less in the powers of ingredients rising as they cook. I'm afraid I forgot about that very important rule. I blame the cake mix really. The chocolate goo of Duncan Hines blurred my vision and my thought process. I filled the mini-cake pans too full and there was a big mess in the oven. I took everything out, still half raw and decided to start over again. I cleaned up the mess inside the oven I thought, poured less batter in the pans, closed the door, started the timer and crossed my fingers. Smoke began coming out of the oven as some left over batter burned. Lovely. I suppose I should count my blessings since the smoke alarm didn't go off, by the grace of god no doubt.
The second batch came out delicious. After cooling they were promptly frosted. And devoured. 

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