Dude, I can totally bake!

Since I was very young I was in the kitchen making, mixing, baking. Mind you, at the age of 5 it was most likely just to lick the beaters...hence my addictions to raw dough and batter.
           *side note...I really don't believe the thing about getting worms from raw batter, but I still wont give it to my kids...its MINEEEEE alllllll MINEEEEE!!*

Sure I have certain things that challenge me still in the baking department, such as biscuits and pie crust. I can make them well NOW but I'm old. For years I had people stand behind me, telling me exact steps, showing me exactly HOW to make a pie crust or batch of fluffy biscuits...but alas...I was told "You just can't do it!" ....my baked goods were even snubbed by crows...laughed at by sea gulls. ..actually I watched a sea gull pick a biscuit up and try to smash it open on a rock like he would shellfish- that's how bad they are!!

Today I have overcome this obstacle when it comes to pies (thanks to my Grammies recipe) and my biscuits are hit and miss...but I will tell you what...

This domestic goddess (*ahem* stay with me now) can make bread!

I can still remember my first batch of bread. I was 8 or so, followed along with the pictures from Mom's Betty Crocker Cookbook. Thankfully my parents let me usually have free reign of the kitchen as long as I cleaned up the mess....anyhoooooo

I lined up the ingredients, carefully measured, cups of flour, spoons of this and that...a package of yeast....

*can you guess where I went with this?

APPARENTLY a package of yeast does NOT mean a whole can of yeast. I, sweet naive little me, dumped the whole can in. It rose, and rose, and smelled oddly like a stale bottle of beer (I don't know how I knew that)....it rose some more...and as long as the recipe told me to wait for it to rise I stood guard over my precious dough. I faithfully gathered up the excess dough rising and trying to expand all over the kitchen.

I remember looking at it thinking, "Well, this is awfully dark white bread".

I baked it. Actually as it baked it turned into the largest loaf of bread I have ever seen...and when it was finished I turned my accomplishment onto the counter. Dark golden brown, large, and still smelling of beer.

My father was the first victim taste tester. He cut the loaf off into thick steaming slabs and put on a nice layer of Parkay...bit and chewed, gagged, and swallowed....and then he ate another one...gushing about how good it was.

ETA: it needs to be mentioned that even though I used a whole can of yeast, only the regular amount of water was used...producing a nice crunchy texture :S
I'm not sure how many pieces he ate...or when exactly I realized I used about a hundred times the regular amount of yeast. You would have thought the loaf weighing 15 lbs gave it away....but my Dad, the superstar, not wanting to crush my dreams of being a great cook and baker ate it with a smile. I'm pretty sure when Mom saw the empty can of yeast, smelled the horror I just baked and saw the massive yeast loaf I made she broke it to me gently while throwing it out the door.

What is the moral of the story you might ask? Well, today I enjoy baking....I enjoy my kids liking my baking. I will never, ever, never forget that a package of yeast is not a can but in fact around 2 and 1/4 tsp!!!

 If I wasn't given complete run of the kitchen at an early age I might have lost interest and relied on bought food more then not. I plan of giving my kids carte blanche to my kitchen and letting them experiment, let them enjoy what may soon be a rare activity in some families....let them get dirty in flour...and you can bet I will swallow down whatever creation they serve me....send prayers and kitchen cleaners as I feel at the age of 3 they are way ahead of my legacy.

Kids Lesson #23: a child, never mind if they are boys or girls should be well rounded and adept in all matters...whether it be cooking, baking, cleaning, plumbing or car repair...we have no gender role ideology issues here. I wont have my son grunting "That's women's work" or my daughter's fluttering  their eyelashes for a man to to whatever. If their Mommy can bake a cake....she most certainly can replace a kitchen faucet too.


PS. I really just don't want my kids fluttering their eyelashes at anyone till they are about 65...in fact once I get them all trained up in the cooking department maybe then I can watch one of those soap operas, read a book...relax?    .that is all....