Getting in the kitchen and baking/cooking is therapy to me. Well, up to a point. When I happen to be worried about something or I’m just out of sorts, getting my hands into flour and batter just really helps me – and it’s cheaper than a therapist. But then there are those times when getting the kitchen makes me feel like I NEED A THERAPIST. I burn everything and throw a hissy fit. The smoke alarm goes off (again). I get mad and throw a dish. Annie says, “what is THAT?” So, yeah. But baking is still cheaper than a therapist.
I wish I could explain to you the deep satisfaction that I get when I take a conventional recipe and turn it into something healthy. It’s a deep sense of calm. It’s a deep sense of pride. It’s a deep sense of humility – because the next time I try to do it, it tastes like sandpaper and you can’t even choke it down. But, I would have to say that about 75% of the time, making a recipe healthy turns out well – and I can take the other 25% that it doesn’t. And I’m SURE Barry is going to remind me of that the next time I sit in the floor, crying, rocking, and holding on to a pan of sawdust cake. [Read more…]