47 comments, 52 on me, 3 contests, 0 columns, joined Apr 19, 2011
Visited on May 20 10:01 PM
But the most horrifying instant of all was when I recalled each failed pie cookie danish and loaf ever baked in my career and sensed all the failure that was sure to appear in my future baking endeavours too, this was happening just in the middle of a street one day in a blinding flash with visions of baked goods circling around my head like ancient deities--- And so I went home and put on the chef’s hat I kept beside the front door and walking with purpose (in long straight strides) I arrived at the kitchen to reclaim my status and lay groundwork for the future--- So it occurred to me right then that to make right any wrongs and to prevent more wrongs from being made I needed something grand large and formidable, nothing too small like a muffin or lady fingers but a profound shape and flavour that would never be forgotten, and so with my chef’s hat slipping over my eyes now and again (like a kid who hasn’t grown into his father’s hand-me-down hat yet) I worked at a quick pace to unearth a recipe that was capable of providing me redemption and hope for the future--- And I should say that at this time only weeks earlier had I received that job at the bakery, fresh out of school that I was---
And now I was thinking about each ingredient coming together in a frenzy and flurry, I was so fixated on measuring spooning and pouring each and every thing into the huge round looming mixing bowl--- eventually eggshells ended up in my hair and on the counter and in the magical mixing bowl too (the solemn meeting place becoming busier and fuller all the time) and before long I was ready to start greasing the pan and preheating the oven though I had to wade through mounds of brown sugar and clouds of white flour--- “A whole mess of little joys like that amazing me…”
So finally the pan was in the oven--- Heating rising and baking, it was the culmination of my task and I stood back to behold what was quickly becoming a complete object created solely by me and me alone, something warm fresh and tangible--- something I would spend hours lining just right with colourful icings and with the utmost care on my part too, and then the cake would be taken to a small bakery with clean crystal-looking sweet glass to be displayed for everyone to see---
But the cake didn’t turn out, it fell flat and tasted awful because in my wild haste I confused the sugar with salt and the baking soda with sweetener and there were too many eggshells, oh--- I realised then that it was just a cake and I was reading into it too much.
