A Spoonful of Sugar and a Grain of Salt

Having received a new pie dish and my father-in-law's grandmother's rolling pin for Christmas, I was eager to try my hand at baking again.  I've mentioned on this blog, quite frequently, that I love to cook, but I have never been a particularly good baker.  Here are the reasons why:

1. You can taste pasta sauce or stew as you're cooking it to make sure it is turning out well.  You cannot, however, test-nibble on half-baked cookie dough as you're baking it.  Well, you shouldn't, anyway.

2. I don't like following recipes, and the science of baking strictly requires it. 

3. Baking is potentially messy.  I am reliably messy.  Therefore, flour gets everywhere. 

4. Baking usually needs specific ingredients that I never seem to have.  I didn't know what cream of tartar even was until maybe six months ago.

Still, the addition of the beautiful new tools to my arsenal encouraged me.  Instead of a pie, though, I thought I would start simple, with banana muffins.  I had recently downloaded an app for my phone that listed hundreds of recipes in a clear, concise format, and many of them looked really great!  I found a simple one for the muffins, and I checked to ensure I had everything on hand to make them.  I cleared the kitchen table off, prepared bowls for the wet and dry ingredients, and got to work, proud of myself for trying something new, and hoping to be able to present Ross with a delicious, homemade treat for dessert that night.

Not being a baker, I wasn't entirely sure what each ingredient was for.  I also didn't realize that the recipe calling for two tablespoons of baking soda was, clearly an error in translation, because that night I baked banana muffin-shaped pretzels.  As I was pouring the batter into the tins, I had the sinking sensation that things weren't right, but I hoped that the baking process would bring out the sweetness of the bananas and dates.  To no avail.  When I reluctantly tasted one of the dense biscuit-like horrors that emerged from the oven, it practically fizzed on my tongue like Alka-Seltzer.  Not even butter could help.  Into the trash every last muffin went.

I was irate.  I read and re-read the recipe to make sure that the mistake was not in my interpretation.  Nope, there is was, clear as day.  Two tablespoons of baking soda.  Foul.

Ross ended up with Rice Chex for dessert that night.

I know I can use this "life lesson" like many Christian authors do, and neatly tie it up with an applicable scripture, or go on to talk about how sometimes we blindly "follow the recipe" for a perfect life and still end up feeling like failures, but I am not doing that here today.  I am still angry that I wasted flour, sugar, bananas and an hour of my evening and ended up with only frustration and a full trash bag.  Plus, I got made fun of at work when I tried to get some pity from my co-workers the next day.

I'm not giving up on baking entirely, but I will surely be relying only on time-tested family recipes from now on, thanks very much.

(Note: the above muffins are fantasy muffins.  In my mind, I made them.  In reality, I found them on a random website.)