This week I was asked to bake a cake for my friend/co-worker's husbands birthday. At first I was flattered, then I was nervous, then excited, then nervous again, and now I am relieved. I love to bake and everytime I do bake I am very pleased with the results, so I don't know why I get so nervous, especially for this one. She asked for a German Chocolate Cake which I am extremely familar with and completely comfortable with. I think it is the whole concept of not being able to taste the end result before someone else dives in. And I also have the memory of one night going in the kitchen to whip up some oatmeal raisen cookies for Brian and me. I just threw stuff together as usual and started dolloping out my cookies. When I was done, there was still a small amout of batter left in the bowl so I snuck a sampling only to gag at my use of salt instead of sugar. Ooops.
Anyway, so this week during my episodes of mixed emotions, I got to imagining myself as a baker. I like the image in my head of me baking away, alternating my cute aprons, and using all my fun pans and colored spatulas. I know that is not reality, but reality has not sunk in yet. The girls at work also encouraged the idea by promising to give me business for birthdays and holidays. What a great job, bake a few cakes a month and bake a ton around the holidays which is when I get the itch to bake the most. There I would be, using my 2 ovens to bake everything from Chess Pie, to Cream Cheese Brownines, to Red Velvet Cake, to Peppermint Scones, to Lemon Pound Cake, to 100 different types of cookies (if you can't tell, my preference is cookies...love them!) with Dutch sitting quietly by my side, licking up anything that falls to the floor. I know...Dream On
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