I'm having a bit of trouble lately... Call it hormones or the color blue... I am in dire need of comfort. And what do I do when in such desperation? You already know I like to eat so that was a giveaway. But another form of therapy that feels sooo much better than the retail variety is to cook something.... Especially when cooking means baking.
I'm going back to when I saw the movie Julie & Julia, when the modern epicurean Julie self reflects on the wonders of baking: 'You know what I love about cooking? I love that after a day when nothing is sure and when I say nothing, I mean nothing. You can come home and absolutely know that if you add egg yolks to chocolate and sugar and milk, it will get thick. That's such a comfort.'
I couldn't have said it better. My first stab at anything culinary was as the tender age of 6, when I intelligently mixed water, flour and salt, stuck it in the toaster oven til it turned a different shade of beige, then force-fed them to the maids. Clearly, the latter party was not appreciative of me trading roles for a meal.
Thing is, I'm a bit anal when I cook, and bake. I hate mixes and refuse to "cook" anything out of a can. When I used to make Tiramisu (which, I will not lie, is LEGEN-wait for it-DARY) for friends, I was so OC that I made my own broas aka Madelaines from scratch so I could control the cushiness and softness of the bread element, which is imperative especially when you soak them in the coffee liquer. Well, at least I thought everyone baked the old fashioned way.
But when the mood madness gets really bad, only few things take me back to sanity. Tate's Cookies is one of them; my other happy pill is Sprinkles Red Velvet Cupcakes.
Read the entire post on the NEW ToT: http://www.triportreats.com/2010/01/12/diy-sprinkles-cupcakes/