Get a soft mild goat cheese, add some caramelized onion, and you too can bake a babka you’ll want to eat all by yourself.
I don’t have a sweet tooth. There isn’t a canine, bicuspid, or molar in my possession that is not sweet. My earliest memories in the kitchen are standing on a chair to reach a bowl and handheld mixer to beat eggs into a cake batter. I’m a particular kind of baker – the stress baker.
Oh did I just spend all of Saturday planning out how to manage 3 term papers and 2 essay exams in the coming week? Fatigued from over-planning every second I’ve lost an hour of time allotted to Beowulf and my thoughts can’t seem to still. Logic dictates buying Betty Crocker and baking brownies now will somehow help. So you know Hakuna Matata!
I like the focus and ease provided by baking. I’ve got a list of things I need to do, and all the thinking has been removed because they (bless they) have told me exactly how much of each thing I need, helping me get to a less-stressed state more efficiently than I would left to my own resources.