So this weekend-yesterday, actually-I baked banana bread and chocolate chip cookies. From scratch! I know. I’ll wait while the rest of you pick yourself up off the floor.
Actually, I like baking, as long as it’s not too complicated. Meals I’m pretty meh about. I mean, all that work, and it’s gone within thirty minutes, except for the mess. With baking, you can enjoy your efforts for at least twenty four hours or so, give or take.
Also, I cleared the clutter reorganized the kitchen, which makes it nice to bake in these days.
Miss B was all excited to help me bake cookies. Ever since I baked oatmeal raisin cookies with Andrew (a recipe from his Family and Consumer Science class), she wanted to bake her own cookies.
Miss B: What’s shortening?
Me: It’s fat.
A bit later, Bob wandered through and Miss B exclaimed:
Daddy! I know the secret to Mommy’s cookies and I’m not telling anyone at school. It’s a secret recipe and it’s FAT!
Now, doesn’t that sound appealing? I suppose I should be relieved she’s not telling her entire school that the secret ingredient is fat.
Here’s my whole point to this baking and cooking thing: why go all Martha Stuart when you can make your offspring ecstatically happy with a bag of Nestlé’s toll house morsels?
And fat. Don’t want to forget the secret ingredient.