One of the things that I’m really good at is cooking. I love cooking. Cooking and baking. When I cook, I don’t use recipes, but taste as I go and add what feels right. I love simple dishes, like angel hair pasta with fresh tomatoes, that are cooked down a bit in butter with garlic, and finished with fresh basil and parmesan cheese. Short ribs are another favourite to make. I like to do them in a slow oven for around 3-4 hours with some crushed tomatoes and a big dark beer. I do my stews much the same way.
Baking is something that obviously needs a recipe, but I like to tweak it to suit my tastes and needs. I have a cupcake recipe that is no fail, and I can substitute out the milk for boozy flavours, or add in fresh fruit if I like. I love experimenting with flavours for cupcakes. I’ve done them all, from red wine, fresh peach and basil, and pink lemonade, to apple cinnamon, coconut lime, and chai tea.
Not everything I make turns out. Unfortunately I’ve had quite the fair share of flops in my kitchen. Cinnamon rolls still continue to confound me. I’ve had batches turn out perfect, only to have the next three times completely fail. I did try one with bacon, cheese, and onion, and while it was really good, the bake was totally off.
Bread is an easy go to though. No matter what I add or do, bread always turns out for me. Maybe it’s in my genes. My grandmother was always baking bread and buns whenever we went over to her house. I’d leave with the smell of fresh bread permeated into my clothes. My mom is no different. She’s always baking fresh bread and buns. It seems that baking and cooking is a part of my soul, passed down from generation to generation.