Before I had my children baking, and cooking for that matter, was something I loved to do. Something that relaxed me, I love the escape that cooking provides, the way that you can be having a downright terrible week and everything is turned around in that moment when you realise you have made a perfect silky smooth batch of pasta or when you make a butter cream frosting that brings a smiles to the faces of the ones who eat those pretty little cakes that you ever so delicately placed it on.
For a while after Maisie was born I lost my love of baking, I felt snowed under with a baby, a toddler and trying to do it all. My treasured Kitchen-Aid Mixer sat on our bench haunting me, I looked at it everyday wondering when I would use it again but I just couldn’t fathom giving myself the time. Then one day, after exhausting painting and drawing and all the other usual things Leo and I do, I threw in the option of baking. ‘Yes, that might be fun’. Baking it was.
The first time you bake with kids is a nightmare. They want to help, most of the ingredients end up on the bench or on the floor and, by the end, the familiar sense of relaxation that baking used to provide has now been replaced with sheer frustration.
I am here to say stick with it. It will get better. Yes they still make a mess, yes you will still need a few deep breaths to ward off the frustration but some of my earliest memories are around food and cooking and I can only hope that first cooking memories will resonate in the same way with my children.
So I am going to begin adding recipes we make, maybe even recipes that I make when I get a moment without the kids. Please note that I am a go with what you feel type cook, so recipes are rarely exact and there is always room to play/for error, but bare with me, and just remember if you have no cooking disasters, then you aren’t trying enough new things.