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Living By The Seat Of My Pants

by Marjorie Newton

in Family ·

And Then I Learned To Bake (Part 2)

Cooking with my granddaughter
Christmas Baking
My husband, the chef

My love of baking continued through the years. No matter what stage of life, I loved to lose myself in some baking project.  It was emotional therapy as well as fun, and it gave my creative juices a release.  Each recipe became a challenge for me to add a little something more to it that would make it a little more delicious.  Slowly I made up my own recipes.  Walking through the baking aisle was fun seeing so many ready to bake products, box cakes, and even pie crusts making my imagination run wild with baking possibilities.

My husband Dick appreciated my baking, especially when I made his favorite peanut butter cookies or lemon meringue pie.  His son Rick who was living with us did not quite go along with his dad.  You would think most teenage boys would love having home baked goodies so handy, but he complained his friends’ mothers bought goodies from the store.  Why couldn’t  he be so lucky?

Dick was the one who really loved to cook.  He wasn’t into baking but he loved to cook.  We had over two hundred cook books, all of which he had read from beginning to end.  He read them as though they were novels.  Every Saturday he researched one of our recipe books and chose something new to cook.  Off to the store he would go to get all the ingredients, and spend the day cooking.  I loved it. After so many years of trying to figure out what to cook for dinner each night, I was burned out and happy to let him take over at least on the weekend.  The kitchen was a mess afterwards but I was happy to clean it up in exchange for not cooking.

I preferred baking to cooking but also liked to create my own cooking recipes.  After years of cooking and baking, most recipes bored me. When Dick cooked he followed every step to the letter.  He couldn’t understand why I didn’t and would check on me sometimes when I was in the process of cooking.  Once when I was making a ham loaf for dinner, I knew he would be checking on me.  So I found a recipe for ham loaf in one of his favorite cook books, laid it on the counter next to where I was working, and when he asked me what recipe I was using, I pointed to the one in the book.  I don’t think I looked at that recipe even once.  But he loved the ham loaf commenting on what a great recipe it was. I don’t think he ever caught on to my little trick. 

As a child, my daughter Leslie was my baking assistant, begging to break the eggs, begging to sift the dry ingredients and begging to stir, and of course, begging to “taste.”   She was nine now, the same age I was when I started to bake.  I chose a “One Egg Cake” recipe for her, like my mother had, and guided her through the egg cracking, dry ingredient sifting, and butter melting process.  Then, of course, stirring it all together while getting in some important sampling.

“Good job, honey.  You did it all by yourself.  You’re certainly a natural.”  My mother’s comment to me.

We continued baking all the Christmas cookies together as it was one of our holiday traditions.   They were all the recipes my mother had baked, and it was fun doing them with each other.  It wasn’t until Leslie was in high school that she got a little more interested in solo baking.

She married her husband Michael after they both graduated from UCLA.  Their daughter, Lily, a beautiful little red head, has always had a mind of her own and had a whole different approach to baking.  Actually, it was more like concocting.

She began her concocting career at an early age, while still in diapers.  She was fascinated with what she called potions.  Often they were made sitting in mud, sometimes nude, with mud as the main ingredient along with sticks, stones, leaves, flowers, whatever else she found in the yard. I won’t mention they had two dogs.

Potions were concocted in the kitchen too.  These ingredients differed of course and were mainly found in the baking cabinet and refrigerator.   As an example, Tabasco sauce, vinegar, all kinds of seasoning especially red hot pepper, and usually red food coloring mixed with water or maybe lemonade might be a potion.  It all depended on her mood and what she could reach.  Remember, she was still in diapers.

This potion making really didn’t interfere with her desire to do real honest baking, however.  The real honest baking activity many times fell into the “Grandma babysitting and entertaining” category which could be very challenging for me keeping her “all hell break lose” potion making attitude from spilling over into the real baking activity.  The egg breaking, (her favorite), the dry ingredient sifting and the butter/sugar   was done with a definite “devil may care” flair. And I won’t even get into the vigorous stirring and important tasting part.

The stirring and important tasting part apparently fulfilled her creative urges as it was about this time she jumped off the stool or chair she was standing on, turned to me and said, “Gramma, I’m finished!”  And believe me, so was I!  My “Grandma devil-may-care, all hell break lose babysitting and entertaining” creative urges had been fulfilled too.

Now a young lady of 11, other activities have attracted Lily’s attention.  She loves to sing, knows all the words to the latest popular songs, and loves to do silly dances with her mom and dad (and sometimes me).   Potions have not been presented to the family for some time now but baking creeps in occasionally but not with quite the same enthusiasm as when she was younger.  That enthusiasm is now directed to a new creative outlet.  DRUMS!  Yes, that’s right!  DRUMS! And her teacher says she’s a natural!  

Which leads me to believe that with her exuberant and determined personality she has exhibited in her 11 years, she will live a lifetime of marching to her own drum! 

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Comments

  1. Love it, cousin Margie! I remember the 1st thing I ever baked with my mom…..banana cake with lemon buttercream frosting! My whole career was food, corporate catering, cooking, grill cooking, cake decorating, and lastly Montessori school chef! I too get burnt out with cooking every now and then, but find myself drawn back to the kitchen momentarily.
    Lately I am revisiting sour dough!
    Cheers!,
    Mary

  2. It took me a while but I found you.. I loved your cooking stories. Merry loved to cook but following recipes not so much. The results were predictably varied!

  4. I love the reference to Christmas baking. Reminded me of my two oldest granddaughters coming every Christmas just to make their cookies. My wife, Ruth Ann, supervised. I was mostly a bystander and taster. Now those times are passing as our oldest granddaughter got married this spring. Last Christmas was the first time in many years that they did not come here to bake their special cookies. However, the one who got married was quick to call Grandma to you get that special recipe.
    You do such a wonderful job of expressing your experiences, Marj. I look forward to your posts.

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