Thinking outside the box is easy…
when you’re not really sure where “the box” is anyway.
Daddy gave me my first cooking lesson when my sister was born. He taught me how to fry an egg in a slice of bread. I was 3.
Well, almost 3, but hey, I was going to need to learn to feed myself one day, right?
No sense in procrastinating.
Around age 5, we started making pancakes.
First he showed me step-by-step in his fatherly way. Around age 6, he shouted directions to me from the other room. By 7, I knew what I was doing.
He taught me to identify the exact moment to flip a perfectly browned pancake. The batter loses some of its sheen on the edge, and one bubble — just one — doesn’t pop.
His unique pancake method involved only a coffee cup to measure.
Brownies in 4th grade, pound cake by middle school, and I created my first cheesecake recipe at 18 — chocolate almond with a graham cracker crust. Food chemistry was the foundation of my high school senior project.
My first daughter’s birthday cake was from scratch, of course.
When my second daughter, however, was diagnosed with severe allergies to egg and milk,
I abandoned buttercream in favor of vegan baking.
Trying others’ recipes, I’d think, “This isn’t right. The batter is too wet/dry,” and change it.
I was always a Daddy’s girl. These days, I can usually dump flour, etc in a bowl, and it turns into something as good as you’d buy. Often better.
(Do you know Malcolm Gladwell’s theory of 10,000 hours of practice to master a subject? Oh, I’m there! If you don’t know what I’m talking about, go read the book, Outliers.)
I’ve made at least a dozen different flavors of vegan pancakes.
Just pancakes. Don’t get me started on muffins. Or cookies. Or cupcakes.
Eventually, I realized… hmm… not everyone can bake like this.
For years, I ignored people telling me to blog because then I’d have to measure ingredients all the time. What a drag!
So naturally, I decided to start a blog after creating elaborate decorations for Vacation Bible School at my church.
I know. My thought process isn’t exactly linear. Ever.
Eventually, I realized… oh, not everyone can make crafts like this either.
In fact, my quirky point of view is a little bit special.
Welcome to my view, from the Piedmont.