One fine day...
I had this absolutely brilliant idea that I should learn baking. Sophie Kinsella's books, Nigella Lawson's cookery show and the movie Julie & Julia mounted to enough inspiration. My parents were not very keen on this new enterprise, considering the number of times I have ventured to learn stuff but never finished. As always I was adamant.
I spent considerable amount of time reading up on baking and decided that the best way to learn is by practice. So I enrolled for a baking class. Well, where there is a will there is a way. Off I go to discover the nuances of baking and what a joyful experience. Students aged 10 to 70 worked together to make cup cakes and tea cakes.
Sweet daughter that I am, I returned home with a box of delectable cupcakes and a footnote "get me an oven and mixer and pan and blah blah". It was like those coaching classes that kids go to. They go for a day and come back with a long list of required paraphernalia - without which they cannot go a step more in furthering their knowledge.
What a hassle. I set about browsing through web site after web site catering to baking implements. Made endless lists of the stuff that I needed, picked the brand, compared the price and what not. As luck would have it, they stopped shipping to my state of residence. Something to do with taxes and import (or was it export, I always get it wrong).
I wasn't ready to give up. I shifted my focus to getting an oven. The process of browsing and comparing was repeated. But this time my effort was fruitful. I bought an oven.
That done, I pored over recipes available on-line. I came across this web site which give a detailed tutorial on baking basics for beginners and they suggested a simple recipe to begin with. So simple that even kids can do it. That sounded like the best one to start off my baking experiments.
I bought all the ingredients and found substitutes for stuff that I didn't want to buy right away - like a glass bowl gifted by a textile showroom, a mini mixer borrowed from my friend and cup cake liners instead of the pan. I was so excited I was literally bouncing on my toes.
One fine day...
I followed the instructions to the letter. I measured everything precisely, chopped, sieved, sautéed the ingredients, whisked away and set everything out in neat little bowls. I felt one step closer to Nigella :) Beautifully decorated brownies went into the oven with the temperature and time set as suggested in the recipe. 5 mins down and it smelled awesome. Fragrance of vanilla extract and butter spread around the kitchen and I revelled in it. I was sceptical about the 10 mins suggested in the recipe, but I decided to give it a go.
One minute later, the fragrance turned into smoke. Ouch!!!!! I quickly opened the oven to find the little cups of brownie mixture emitting deadly fumes. I was hopeful. It was just 1 min of burning. How bad could it be. I snatched one and peeled of the paper cup. And I realised the bitter truth. Only the bottom half was burnt, the top half was charred black. I couldn't even bite down :( Oh the woe.
I dutifully cleaned up the kitchen, put everything back into its place and decided that I was giving up on baking forever.
Lo, behold. I forgot about my parents. They would never let me get disheartened by such epic failures. My Mom insisted that I try again. My Dad blamed it all on the oven, obviously I could never do anything wrong :D But I conceded defeat.
I slept over it and woke up with renewed enthusiasm. I decided to try it again. What was the worse that I could do?? Burn it?? Been there, done that.
So I gave it another shot. The same recipe, the same ingredients and the same steps. I did it all over again, but with lesser bounce in my step. I was heedful every minute, after all I knew what a minute could do to my poor brownies.
Thankfully, the second attempt came out well. It wasn't as good as the brownies that you get in hotshot bakeries. But, mind you, it was edible and tasty too.
And thus,
one fine day... I began living another dream. Baking :)
I had this absolutely brilliant idea that I should learn baking. Sophie Kinsella's books, Nigella Lawson's cookery show and the movie Julie & Julia mounted to enough inspiration. My parents were not very keen on this new enterprise, considering the number of times I have ventured to learn stuff but never finished. As always I was adamant.
I spent considerable amount of time reading up on baking and decided that the best way to learn is by practice. So I enrolled for a baking class. Well, where there is a will there is a way. Off I go to discover the nuances of baking and what a joyful experience. Students aged 10 to 70 worked together to make cup cakes and tea cakes.
Sweet daughter that I am, I returned home with a box of delectable cupcakes and a footnote "get me an oven and mixer and pan and blah blah". It was like those coaching classes that kids go to. They go for a day and come back with a long list of required paraphernalia - without which they cannot go a step more in furthering their knowledge.
What a hassle. I set about browsing through web site after web site catering to baking implements. Made endless lists of the stuff that I needed, picked the brand, compared the price and what not. As luck would have it, they stopped shipping to my state of residence. Something to do with taxes and import (or was it export, I always get it wrong).
I wasn't ready to give up. I shifted my focus to getting an oven. The process of browsing and comparing was repeated. But this time my effort was fruitful. I bought an oven.
That done, I pored over recipes available on-line. I came across this web site which give a detailed tutorial on baking basics for beginners and they suggested a simple recipe to begin with. So simple that even kids can do it. That sounded like the best one to start off my baking experiments.
I bought all the ingredients and found substitutes for stuff that I didn't want to buy right away - like a glass bowl gifted by a textile showroom, a mini mixer borrowed from my friend and cup cake liners instead of the pan. I was so excited I was literally bouncing on my toes.
One fine day...
I followed the instructions to the letter. I measured everything precisely, chopped, sieved, sautéed the ingredients, whisked away and set everything out in neat little bowls. I felt one step closer to Nigella :) Beautifully decorated brownies went into the oven with the temperature and time set as suggested in the recipe. 5 mins down and it smelled awesome. Fragrance of vanilla extract and butter spread around the kitchen and I revelled in it. I was sceptical about the 10 mins suggested in the recipe, but I decided to give it a go.
One minute later, the fragrance turned into smoke. Ouch!!!!! I quickly opened the oven to find the little cups of brownie mixture emitting deadly fumes. I was hopeful. It was just 1 min of burning. How bad could it be. I snatched one and peeled of the paper cup. And I realised the bitter truth. Only the bottom half was burnt, the top half was charred black. I couldn't even bite down :( Oh the woe.
I dutifully cleaned up the kitchen, put everything back into its place and decided that I was giving up on baking forever.
Lo, behold. I forgot about my parents. They would never let me get disheartened by such epic failures. My Mom insisted that I try again. My Dad blamed it all on the oven, obviously I could never do anything wrong :D But I conceded defeat.
I slept over it and woke up with renewed enthusiasm. I decided to try it again. What was the worse that I could do?? Burn it?? Been there, done that.
So I gave it another shot. The same recipe, the same ingredients and the same steps. I did it all over again, but with lesser bounce in my step. I was heedful every minute, after all I knew what a minute could do to my poor brownies.
Thankfully, the second attempt came out well. It wasn't as good as the brownies that you get in hotshot bakeries. But, mind you, it was edible and tasty too.
And thus,
one fine day... I began living another dream. Baking :)
