If we saw our kitchen this week, we would have thought that a natural disaster had occurred.
I can assure you that there has been one, maybe two disastrous incidents, but neither can be taken for granted.
Being in a kitchen is nothing new to me; being the baker, however, is a new title.
Growing up, I was fortunate to have a grandmother whose therapy was baking, as my mother described it so well. (Baking, however, was not my mom’s therapy.)
Watching her whip up one of her delicious treats was awesome, eating the finished product was better. No treat was complete without licking the spoons of the finished concoction.
No, my grandpa didn’t get angry often, unless the Royals lost to the Darn Yankees. But in the early 1980s, as they sat at her dining room table listening to one of the radio shows, “Kitchen Klatter,” the hosts reminded their listeners not to let the children eat. raw cookie dough because of the fear of salmonella.
This did not suit Gram, who walked into the kitchen, the bowls clanging as she baked fresh chocolate chip cookie dough. She gave me and my siblings more than a lick spoon. We each received a small sample of the dough.
My gram is the main reason for my vicious sweet tooth, and when she passed away over 25 years ago her amazing homemade desserts were gone. There’s nothing more I wouldn’t give to spend a day in the kitchen with her, learning the ropes of baking.
And while the pandemic has been a plague, the kids and I have been drawn into cooking shows: some educational, some entertaining. But for the older ones, who will be left helpless, it has sparked an interest in cooking and baking. My children inherited the same sweet tooth as mine.
As a “family” Christmas present, I made the choice to invest in molds and baking dishes, as well as pastry equipment.
It was fun spending time in the kitchen, making homemade desserts from scratch. It was memorable, although the mounds of dirty bowls, pots, pans, measuring cups and spoons quickly add up.
The only ‘miss’ was the lemon meringue pie, as the meringue was crumbling but the pie was still tasty. It is a work in progress. Gram would be proud because hers was one of my all time favorites.
My dad embraces the elder’s new interest, gifting is a thick cookbook. This could be a clue: send candy.
Hoping your 2022 is as sweet as the next “it won’t be named” recipe chooses from its growing palette.
Jeff Bryan is editor of the Citrus County Chronicle. Contact him at [email protected] or 352-564-2930.