lessons from baking

I used to be such a crap cook, especially when it came to cakes. Well maybe not consistently crap but I was certainly never considered a fabulous cook. I was always envious of anyone who was creative in the kitchen and made food that was not only attractive to look at but delicious to eat. I sometimes wonder if it is because of the models I had growing up.
 

In my early life, because my parents who were GPs in a country town worked long hours, we had “help”, Mrs Evans who cooked lunches and dinners for us. The most memorable of these meals were burnt chops and boiled vegetables, alternated with tasty stodgy options such as macaroni cheese.

Then my adolescence was spent at boarding school where meals ranged from the unappetising slivery tripe and tapioca pudding at the least favoured end of the spectrum to chicken schnitzel and chips followed by ice cream and homemade caramel sauce at the other.  

My grandmother loved to cook but she favoured scones, rock cakes and meringues. I used to love our annual gorge when she gave us each an ice cream container of meringues for our Christmas present – oh so predictable but always devoured and enjoyed.

My mum was often too tired from work to cook. While she could make an extraordinary marshmallowy and crisp pavlova, she was also relieved to find that birthday cakes could either be made simply with the addition of one egg and a cup of water to the packet you bought from the supermarket or once we were at boarding school by simply phoning DJs, a department store in the city and having a gorgeously rich concoction delivered.

I wanted to be a good cook and I don’t know why I found it so hard to make something that looked good and tasted fabulous. I used to dread the idea of having to create a cake for my son's primary school cake stall. While I mostly managed to make something edible, my icing made it look as though the cake had barely survived its rugged journey into the world.

Lately, I have realised that I didn't have the right attitude to making cakes. I have a fabulous recipe for a boiled orange and lime cake which is universally loved by everyone who ate it. However, every time that I used to make the cake, I would baulk as the recipe called for 3 eggs and 4 egg whites. The little voice in my head would go really that is 7 eggs, yikes, that is so extravagant, how can I get away with less? Then I would just use less eggs and wonder why it took forever to cook and refuse to set firm. Being stingy is not a good approach to cooking well.

Being overweight for years, I decided we shouldn’t eat cake or biscuits or anything with such vast amounts of sugar and butter and eggs so for a long long time, I refused to make cakes unless it was a special occasion. Even then I often I resorted to packet cakes because it was easier, faster and more reliable. Part of me became quite critical of people who baked regularly and often, "so unhealthy", said the voice in my head.

So now, what has changed so that my writing class is wowed by the yummy cakes that I make?

I have to say that the thing that has changed is me and my attitude and I have learned some important lessons along the way.

1.       Keep it simple

I used to look at the picture of what I wanted to cook and be inspired, hmm how to be easily seduced into failure. Now I look at the list of ingredients and what is involved and work out if I am up to the task.

2.       Allow enough time

I have learned to treat baking and cooking as a meditation. Surprisingly, I can’t do ten other things at the same time, as much as I try. Beating and whipping take time, folding needs to be done gently. Amazingly, you have to leave the cake in the oven for at least the time it says it will take to cook!

3.       Learn what works

I have a handful of recipe books that I know always work for me. They aren’t complicated and don’t require 57 ingredients and 12 bowls to make. They may not win Masterchef but they will impress my family, my guests and people in my writing class. I have been known to surf the net for a recipe and find one that works, this is where I use the first test to decide – is it simple enough?

4.       Don’t take short-cuts with time, ingredients or instructions

Like my story about being stingy with ingredients (oh I really do have to watch that part of my brain that goes wooah to 2 cups of sugar in a cake!) , this also applies to those steps that say beat for 15 minutes (15 minutes why can’t 3 minutes do? goes my busy mind) Well I can certainly attest that the step for pavlova that says beat egg whites until soft peaks form, really does means beat it for that long. I know because I did add the sugar too early (more than once) and ended up with a sloppy mess that flowed off the plate rather than perky shiny mounds of sweetness that should have been the precursor of a pavlova.

5.       Stay present

I am an introvert. I do live in my head. I am constantly in conversation with myself about the ten other things that I need to do but my cooking won’t work if I am not paying attention. Last week, I was making the delicious lemon and ricotta cake and it called for vanilla essence. When I tipped the lidful into the mix, I thought, that looks a bit dark – oops, oh no coffee essence, the bottle is identical and where was my attention? Luckily I could scoop out the essence as it sat quietly on top of the sugar and no-one was any the wiser. Now I think of baking as meditation and creativity and a reward based behaviour to boot.

I am sure that I have learned more but this is a start. So if these are my lessons from baking, what are yours?

a successful pavlova Jan 2013