I can’t even blame MKR. I love that show but it’s on like four days a week—and even I don’t have time for that. Maybe it’s subliminal—I often have it on in the background while I’m holed up in my tiny kitchen nose deep in butter and sugar. Ah my happy place.
I think it’s my new flatmate who’s got me all in a tizzy, kitchen-wise. I am a bit of a showman, and it’s so nice to have someone around who appreciates my baking efforts, no questions asked, and helps me eat it too! I’m happy consuming entire cakes and batches of pie all by myself (split into respectable daily portions, natch) but to have someone beam with joy just because I showed up and pulled that hot fragrant creation out of the oven? I’m definitely in my happy place.
I’ve been called a feeder before, but I categorically object to this label. I would cook and bake if I was the last person on earth. And that’s the point. I love being in the kitchen more than anywhere else (well except for maybe the ocean or the dancefloor) and I would bake to my heart’s content but I also hate the thought of not enjoying the fruits of my labours. And let’s be honest at this rate I truly can’t do this all by myself. Like raising children, let’s be honest, it takes a village, amaright? Diets be damned! Please come over and eat my food!
Ok actually there is one caveat to my rally cry – you have to enjoy food with the same abandon as I do and be a generally good person to indulge in my fare. No mean people allowed in this love fest. I bake for me but that means that a big part of me is included in the filling, and negative people just leave a bad taste in my mouth. Move along meanies!
It’s been so very long since I last posted here and for that I am sorry. I have missed this (and you!) as much as I have feared it. I’ve definitely changed a lot over the past few years down under and I’m still working through how this blog will morph and change as a result. But I still love baking as much as I always have and look forward to having you along with me for the ride.