My life in the kitchen

My great-grandfather immigrated from Germany in the mid-1800s, and ran a bakery in Indiana, where his sons and grandsons continued the family craft.   While there were no bakers in my immediate family, there was a certain pride communicated about this heritage. Later, when I became a baker, I’d say that “butterfat ran in my veins.”

I got my start at an early age.

As the only girl in a large family, I was encouraged to bake cookies and play and help out in the kitchen. Despite the picture, I quickly outgrew my Easy Bake Oven, and moved on to baking full-scale cookies and cakes and cooking the occasional easy dinner for our family.

My mom was not a great cook. Any creativity she might have mustered was generally squashed by the grind of cooking for five kids and a husband who thought every meal was better with “a dab of baked beans” and some applesauce.  (Truly!)   Like many women of her generation, she embraced convenience foods and polyester.  But she did know the basics, and had a few specialties that stood out among the sea of frozen entrees and canned foods of that era.  She taught me how to make a good white sauce, for example, which was the basis for her delicious baked Macaroni and Cheese, and she was known for making a dense but tasty cheesecake with an unusual zwieback crumb crust.  One thing I must admit is that my mom was an artist and she sure knew how to make food look good. Her turkey on Thanksgiving was as dry and inedible as any bird served in the country that day, but it looked like something straight out of Norman Rockwell, all golden brown and glistening, with sugar-frosted grapes nestled against it on the platter. A work of art.  Unfortunately, not culinary art.

Later, in Junior High School, I remember the indignity of being forced to take Home Ec, even though I really was more interested in taking Wood Shop. Home Ec was just lame — making Cinnamon Toast, Gingersnaps and boiling eggs, while I was already comfortable making entire dinners.  And we won’t even get into the travesty that was the sewing part of the class…

When I left home for college, I had a few cooking skills and managed to feed myself. But my roommates from that time would attest that they saw no glimmer of a future gourmet.  It’s when I moved to Boulder and into a “collective house” after college that I really started to develop as a cook.  Our agreement was that each housemate had to cook dinner for all six of us one night a week.  It was a great set-up, really.  You only had to get your act together once a week, but you came home to good home-cooked meals every night.  (You were also only required to do dishes once a week, as well.  Pretty sweet.)  Since we were a mostly vegetarian household, I cooked from some classic cookbooks of the time: Moosewood, Laurel’s Kitchen, Tassahara Bread Book, Vegetarian Epicure, Diet for a Small Planet.  I volunteered at the food coop, and we bought bulk grains and beans. I was exposed to foods I never had growing up, and embraced the basics of natural foods cooking.

By 1980, Boulder was already becoming a center for natural foods and alternative everything.  I got my first baking job at one of the first large successful natural foods restaurants, The Good Earth (which later became The Harvest).  I didn’t really have any paid experience, but I banked on my knowledge of home baking and my ability to learn quickly.  Since I was unemployed, I figured I had nothing to lose — the worst thing that would happen is I would be fired, in which case I’d be back in the same spot I was anyway.  Needless to say, I got the job, and eventually became head baker.

At this restaurant, we baked all of the bread and rolls, breakfast items, and desserts. A batch of bread made 40 loaves. We baked 70 dozen muffins every morning and pies were baked in batches of 12 at a time. I learned to make croissants, danish pastry, apple strudel, cheesecake, and turned out large quantities of breads, rolls, muffins, cookies, cakes, pies and other homey baked goods. I got great experience there, and  stayed until I decided to go to graduate school and take my life in a different direction.

Years went by, and I earned my Master’s degree, moved across the country to the Cambridge area, and started my first professional counseling job. Still, I continued baking as an enthusiastic amateur. I made wedding cakes for friends (with one or two disasters), desserts for parties and potlucks, and more vegetarian meals for my housemates.  To stave off loneliness during the holidays, I started hosting an annual Christmas party, where I would make a huge spread of goodies and invite everyone I knew who was still in town to celebrate with me. I ended up hosting that party every December for twenty-five years, and it evolved and grew more elegant and polished as I learned and grew and matured as a baker and as a hostess.

I moved back to Colorado in 1991, and decided in 1995 to open my own private psychotherapy practice. In order to pay the bills while I built it into something that could support me, I returned to my baking roots and worked at a country-themed restaurant called Rev. Taylor’s in Niwot. I would bake from 5am to 1pm, go home, shower, and rush to the office to see clients all afternoon.  It was a crazy time, but exciting, too.

As the only full-time baker, I got to make a huge variety of items, and leave my own stamp on the place in doing so. Like before, I made breakfast goodies like cinnamon rolls, muffins, biscuits, etc., as well as yeasted dinner rolls, generous pastries, and homey desserts. In addition to the regular menu items, I had the freedom to make several specials a day, whatever struck my fancy.  Upstairs, they served fancy afternoon tea, and I enjoyed making scones and petite pastries for the ladies up there.  It was really fun — I got to play with flour, sugar, butter and cream all day, and someone else did my dishes (and the customers happily ate up everything I made)!  I stayed a couple of years, until my clientele had increased enough that I no longer needed the bread.  (I know, bad baking pun.)

Today, I’m cook for my family (my honey, Larry, and our daughter, Morgan) and often entertain friends and relatives. As I get older,  I’ve expanded my repertoire to include lighter fare and everyday family meals. After years of eating meat, I find myself eating more vegetarian food again, and always emphasize fruits, vegetables and whole grains.  The decadent splurges are somewhat fewer and farther between, but savored nonetheless.

I started this blog to share my love of food and some of my favorite recipes with friends, family and anyone else who might be interested.  Please let me know what you think!