I so dearly miss baking when I’m on the ship. We’re not allowed so much as a hot plate, and the show kitchen is strictly off limits unless you’re the Hostess. So, no baking therapy for me. Once I get home though, I will jump at the excuse to get up to my elbows in flour.
Tomorrow is the annual Symphony Splash – probably the biggest event in town next to Canada day – I haven’t been since I was a teenager when my Dad’s orchestra was actually playing. But Amras and I decided to go, which means we’ll have to get there early and stay all day if we want to have a decent seat on the lawn.
Which means I get to pack a picnic lunch. A proper real one. Because in my family, picnics do not mean throwing together a few ham sandwiches and calling it a day. Mum owns a cookbook just for picnic cooking (“the Gourmet Picnic” it’s called). Granted, we did go to the grocery store this afternoon and pick up some chips, and applejuice and deli meat – just to have. But when I got home from that, Mum handed over one of her recipes for picnic loaf – which neither of us have ever actually tried to make – and I proceeded to don my apron, pull out the stool that is required for me to be the proper height to actually knead bread – and lost myself in the sing-song pattern of flour, sugar and a pinch of salt. The back door is open on days like this, because we’re in the height of summer and the weather is beautiful – so I had fresh air and sunshine to go with my eggs and sugar. Always good ingredients.
Whether or not the bread – which is filled with ham, cheese and sliced olives – actually turned out is still in question, since I don’t want to cut it open until the Splash tomorrow…but I can tell you this, it smells great..
And has reinforced one thing: wherever I end up in life? It better have a really good kitchen.