Sometimes, I go through ruts with my cooking. This can be for a number of reasons. From time to time, it’s laziness. Occasionally it’s busyness. Most of the time, it’s because I’ve had a bad experience, a recipe gone wrong, and I just need to take a little step back. On this occasion, it was the third.
On top of my job, I have committed to baking birthday cakes for the office. The task is simple – once a month, I bake two cakes and these are offered round as birthday cakes for those who have celebrated that month. Most months, this is something fun; it’s a chance to express myself, and my love for people, in the way I know best. Other months, given the wrong kind of day for baking, things can go awry: panic, self-doubt, tired-ness but, most disheartening of all, is when everything has been calm up until the moment where I open the oven to find a sunken/burnt/flat/dense cake. The world around me crumbles.
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the giggly fig 