The Joy of Baking

One of the things I love to do most when the weather is nasty is bake. Whether it’s warm loaves of banana bread (what else am I going to do with overripe bananas?), fudgy brownies, or cookies, I enjoy making something delicious.

Oh, I’ve had my share of cooking disasters. I learned not to trust candy thermometers when my Christmas toffee came out like burned sugar. I’ve had cakes that were burned on the top and raw in the middle. Clearly a defective oven. It could not be that the temperature was too high. Nope.

Lately, cooking has become more challenging. For whatever reason, my children can be playing in the most remote location of the house, but they have little sensors that go off when I open the cabinet for the mixing bowl. It’s like an army drill sergeant yells, “Go, maggots! Your mother needs your help, now move, move, MOVE!” I have to pry little hands off my legs and suddenly I’m surrounded by chairs. Two vertically-challenged toddlers will scale the chairs to reach the countertop, demanding, “Help! Help Mommy!”

I’ve tried distracting them with wooden spoons and pots. No, no. That will never work when there is real cooking happening around them. They want to be in on the action. They want to crack eggs, fling batter across the kitchen, and of course, taste the dough. (My engineer husband is wincing at the thought of the salmonella quotient in raw eggs.)

Me: “No, don’t touch that! You can’t eat melted butter!”
Daughter: “Want this! Taste!”
Son: “Mom, can I stir?” (He says this as he sends a gob flying off the spoon toward his sister.)

Yes, it’s challenging. But in a way, it’s a bonding moment between the three of us. And no one is prouder than my little munchkins when they proudly announce to their dad, “Dad! It’s ready!” Or in the words of my daughter, “Eat, eat, eat!”

What do you enjoy baking? Any cooking disaster stories to share?