As I have struggled with my writing, struggled with feeling burned out and at odds with the way our election has turned out – as I struggled with feeling a deep sense of doom and foreboding, I decided to pick up baking once more.
I baked quite a bit many years ago. Until my mother died, she baked like a mad woman. Cakes and cookies were a staple in my house, and maybe why I still have such a sweet tooth. I baked up until my husband and son were diagnosed with Celiac disease, and then my hands went dormant in the kitchen. It wasn’t until a few days ago, when my husband and I were talking about the expense of buying gluten free bread, that I decided to give it another whirl. Am I ever so glad I did!
We went out and bought pans, and I’ll spare you the goose chase of finding a 8.5 x 4.5 inch loaf pan after buying 9 x 5’s, and all the ingredients. I made my own flour mix from scratch and set about baking sandwich bread. Now, while I can say the taste is great, the height still isn’t there – but during all of this discovery, my husband mentioned how much he missed lemon poppyseed cake. I, naturally, took this as a challenge.
I found a recipe online and for the first time, baked a completely gluten free cake from scratch. I love baking. I can let my OCD run wild as I dote over measurements and hover over the oven. Every bit of my perfectionism can grow wings and soar. And then, the house smells like a wonderful home – warm and sweet – and somewhere deep inside, I feel an insane pleasure at watching my family eat and enjoy what I’ve created. Doing it from scratch is just… well, pardon the pun, icing on the cake. Hah! Baking for me is a pleasure, and I’d forgotten how to feel that way in the past several months. I’d forgotten what it felt like to look in the oven just to check progress and smile at what was coming together, to cross your fingers that the cake doesn’t fall, that it bakes evenly… I’d simply forgotten just how much I love baking.
The loaf came out looking gorgeous, and the taste… oh my goodness, it was just like a regular lemon loaf made with wheat flour (and for something gluten free, that is a feat). Every pleasure center in my brain was alight with this sugary goodness, and when my husband wouldn’t talk until he’d finished his slice – when he wanted to savor the moment of the eating… I knew I’d hit paydirt. All of us sat still, chatting idly for about five minutes, before pronouncing that we were all thinking of another slice and had been the entire time. I’d call that a win!
If you’d like to try your hand at a fantastic cake for yourself, or a friend, or even someone you know that can’t eat gluten, here’s the link: http://christinascucina.com/2016/03/the-best-gluten-free-lemon-or-orange-pound-cake-ever.html You will need a scale, just trust me and everyone else who ends up with awesome GF eats… your mouth will thank you. It’s different, not cooking with cups, but oddly enough – for me – it was a liberation. Still utterly precise, but a liberation none-the-less. Anyway… make it and be amazed for yourself.
As for what’s next… I’ll be back in the kitchen tomorrow for yet another go at GF sandwich bread, tutting over my bowl of yeast and smiling (I’m being hopeful here!) at what I see rising in the oven, my worries distant and my joy boundless.