Completely giddy

So along with my new Building the Muse blog project, there are a few other things that I am mentally ready to start tucking into my bag of tricks. The main one that I am completely over the moon about is learning how to bake. Baking is something that I have always envied in other people. To be able to turn out tender pie crusts and gooey perfectly balanced chocolate chip cookies is a skill that I thought possible only of the white-coated professionally trained gods and goddesses of the kitchen. And then I few months ago, I got to thinking. My MOM baked when I was a kid. I remember baking bread, sweet rolls, soft pretzels and sugar cookies. I remember licking the mixer beaters when my mom made cakes from scratch. The double boiler came out at Christmas when we made chocolate candies for our teachers. I'm skilled with my hands as an artist, why the heck can't I do this myself? Then to take it a step further - have you actually taken the time to READ the labels on the ready-baked goods in the grocery stores? They are longer than the inventory list at the San Diego Museum of Art. There are words in those lists that are not pronounceable without a degree in phonetics. And I have been eating that junk out of convenience for how long? Yuck. My intestines are sticking together just thinking about it. Shouldn't there be just flour, sugar, milk, butter, chocolate, vanilla beans? Simple ingredients, not chemically preserved sugar bombs meant to survive longer than radiated cockroaches.


So I started slowly with the obligatory banana bread. Then I pulled out the chocolate chip cookie recipe from my childhood. Now I'm ready to tackle sticky buns. Next, my grandma's chocolate cake with a possible detour to those amazing soft pretzels we made when I has a kid. Two Christmases ago, I was extremely successful at making caramel sauce. Sugar, cream, and butter - the real deal. I was so incredibly impressed with myself; I think I shed a tear. Really. I did it, and did it well! And it was good. Amen. A warm golden brown with a great consistency - not too sweet - just right.

So I have my list ready to go to prepare my kitchen with the tools necessary to succeed. My mom caught wind of my endeavor and got me started by bringing over my great-grandmother's ceramic mixing bowl last night. I can't believe this amazing piece of family history is in my home. It’s well over 100 years old. I remember my mother letting bread dough rise in it on the stove top. She had special tea towels to put over the top that were reserved for baking only. Heaven help the child who used them to mop up spilled milk!

Today I'm ready to purchase a rolling pin, long oven mitts to spare my arms from my clumsiness, parchment paper, a candy thermometer, a small cast-iron skillet and my own special tea towels. I'm going to splurge on Vietnamese cinnamon and European butter. And the most frightening item on the list is yeast. Yeast. Little tiny temperamental sugar-eating, warm-water swimming organisms. And they scare the heck out of me.

It's time to tackle the fears and hope that the weathered old bowl will bring me the wisdom of generations past. A little luck wouldn't hurt, either.