My partner is taking her mother out tomorrow morning to visit some friends and I’ve been asked to bake a cake for them. A cake that’s going to be cut into and eaten when I’m not there. I don’t think this has ever happened before and it’s making me distinctly nervous.
As they want to be off quite early I decided I’d make the cake this afternoon and then assemble it with the fruit and cream tomorrow morning. They’ve requested a Victoria sponge, one of my go-to bakes, and that’s what I’ve been doing for the last hour or so. I make these so often, normally it’s all done from memory, the recipe book left safely tucked away on the shelf. Today was different though, I felt the need to double-check every ingredient amount, make sure they were being added in the right sequence, reassure myself I had the cooking time exactly right. I even felt the need to check on exactly what the finished product should look like when it came out of the oven. In my mind, I suddenly felt like a novice baker again.
Don’t get me wrong, It’s not that I don’t enjoy baking for other people, completely the opposite, watching peoples faces light up as they eat and share something I’ve made is a wonderful feeling. It’s just this time I won’t be there to see those faces, won’t know if I’ve got it right and whether they’re enjoying it. I suppose there’s always a chance they will bring me a slice home if there’s any left. However, I’d probably start worrying they didn’t finish it as they didn’t like it if that were to happen.
I know I’ll have to get used to this if baking is going to become as big a part of my life as I want it to be. In my dreams, I’d like to reach a stage where I’m sending cakes off in all directions.
For now though, my big worry is how stressed I’m going to get tomorrow when it comes to putting things together. Making sure the cream has been whipped to just the right consistency and the strawberries cut just so.
David in the kitchen. 