As a kid I used to love watching my Mum bake,
My Mum was a hopeless cook when it came to making an evening meal. She could even manage to burn a tin of carrots.
Put her in the kitchen, however, with a mixing bowl, flour and an assortment of cake ingredients and she would be in her element. Looking back I would even say that she was at her happiest and most contented when baking.
Sunday was the day for baking. Never any other day but a Sunday.
The house would be filled with the smell of sweet pastries. The sweet voice of Elvis, Jim Reeves and others emanating from the radiogram. My Dad would be singing along and sometimes even encouraging us to dance with him.
I loved to watch her bake, she would pour the mixture gently into the tins and carry them across the kitchen carefully to the oven as I would dash in front to pull open the door allowing the heat to burst out and steam up my glasses.
Gently she would place the trays into the oven and then head back to the table where the bowls remained.
I loved to watch her bake. My Sister and I would hover around the table waiting for the bowl to be handed over. With big eyes and and even bigger wooden spoon in hand I would salivate at the thought of that bowl heading my way. Then after what seemed an eternity the bowl would head our way, fighting and squabbling until it was all gone.
And then, wiping her hands on her apron she would make her way to the sink, the flour on her cheek and forehead where she had pushed away her hair, the rosy cheeks from the hard work of beating the mixture and the smile on her face as she was content that she had done another fine job.
Funny how memories hit you when you least expect them.
Yesterday I decided to bake some Maple muffins. I had all of the ingredients in and a bit of spare time so that is what I decided to do.
Beating the mixture I suddenly had that pit of the stomach excited feel, the one that I had all of those years ago. The smells rising from the bowl causing me to salivate made me think that I must lick this bowl clean and all of those memories came flooding back.
Did I lick the bowl? Of course I did. You don’t have to be a kid to have fun.
So when was the last time you did something just for the heck of it? If you can’t remember then I dare you to try something and see how good it makes you feel. Obviously only if it is legal should you try it. Just saying.
The Muffins? They were divine
|my own version of maple muffins|
Licking the bowl? Every bit as good as I remembered.