Like The Corner of My Mind

I was blessed to have grown up in a family that knew its way around the kitchen.

Most meals weren't terribly complex; but they were made with more than a simple aim for nourishment. There always seemed to be a certain joy in preparation, if not consumption. In addition to learning how to prepare a tasty meal, I learned that cooking is a process in itself. Done properly, it can be something enjoyable from the time you sharpen the knives to the time you dry the last pan. Done poorly, there is just Alkaselser and a sleepless night in your future.

My first foray in the kitchen was shaky to say the least. Helping my mother prepare a certain dessert since forgotten, I mistakenly grabbed the canister of salt instead of sugar. Whatever it was we wanted to prepare did not have the taste we had anticipated. However, I chalked it up to my first misstep in the kitchen and eagerly came back to prove myself worthy.

[Quick interjection: one of my few leisurely pastimes is watching The Food Network. Of the different personalities, my favorite is Bobby Flay. And not that he's more talented than others and makes meals I can only dream about making; quite the opposite. He's a simpleton when it come to cooking, even though the final product may not reveal it. His jokes often fall flat; he's just as likely to drop a entree while flipping it as he is to catch it; in a cooking competition, he once sliced his finger wide open. I can, and have, done all three of those.]

If meals in our household were necessary for sustenance, desserts were special, something saved for when there was ample time and energy after the meal to prepare and clean.

Sure, there were the regulars: cakes, breads, pies, et cetera, et cetera. But what I remember fondly were the desserts that involved relatively few, but important, steps.

Sopapillas sprinkled with confectioner's sugar. Donuts with a sugar glaze. Crepes with vanilla pudding folded inside.

I've been in a baking mood lately. Last Friday, I made banana bread. The next night, it was a buttermilk pie.

At work today, I searched for dinner recipes I hope to make in the near future. As usual, I ended up in the dessert section.

I found a recipe for Sweet Blini, which is essentially a glorified crepe. Fortunately, I had all the ingredients at home so all I needed was a little bit of time and energy.

After making the yeast concoction and letting it set for an hour, I was already searching for ways to make it better. Add some vanilla; substitute heavy cream for the milk.

The dessert, made just like when I was a child, turned out tasty and quickly consumed.

And as I washed the last plate, I was thinking of other uses for the crepes. Stuffed with chicken and grilled vegetables and then baked for a little bit. Then served with a cream sauce.

And that is why I enjoy cooking and baking. Sure, the meals and desserts are tasty and nourishing. But most of all, the joy is in experimenting and perfecting.

And in creating new memories.