The Hesitant Baker

I have recently laid my hands on the 2 most essential things a fledgling baker is wont to crave:

- Solid recipes, preferably with tons of pictures to keep the motivation up
- Guinea pig, of the human variety, with a sturdy gastro-intestinal tract.

I won't add "stand mixer" to the list because I've owned that for ages, and ladled out nothing but dust from it, on occasion.

So far, the following things have been attempted, but FAR from perfected:

- Irish brown bread
- Irish soda bread (yes, they are different. According to Avoca cafe, anyway)
- Scones (recipes from Avoca AND Tartine... I prefer Tartine's, but only marginally!)
- Banana bread (Avoca recipe is my favorite)
- Several variations of chocolate cookies. The whole wheat-oatmeal ones from 101cookbooks.com is the reigning favorite at home, but it's a fickle audience. The recipe from David Lebowitz is pick 2, but it's looking like it may be the long-term favorite. Once I PERFECT a chocolate chip recipe, as infuriating a task as it seems, I'm passing it down the generations. I don't even care if the generations did not emerge from my loins... someone's getting the damn thing, whether they like it or not!

Baking has breathed new life into my desire to eat & live healthy. I urge anyone wishing to be on that quest to devote themselves to baking for a bit. Contrary to what may seem like common sense, the "lighter & fluffier" the product, the higher the chances that the ingredients are anything but. For instance, let's take the unassuming scone. Looks non-oily, flaky/crumbly & innocent, right? WRONG!! A COPIOUS quantity of butter makes its way into every batch... in fact, the recipe calls for making sure the butter is plenty, cold, not over-mixed, and left as pea size pieces to maximize the flaky texture. Yup, pea size pieces. Pea. Sized. Pieces (as in, plural). Now I don't care where you live, and the size of the peas you get there... pea sized pieces of butter are NOT small enough in ANY country to make me feel good about the union of them & my ass. Enough said. Now back to making a batch, and living vicariously by watching B eat them, and perhaps nibbling the edges. THANK GOD for the 2% spandex in these jeans.