cake that burns your tongue, salty apple pie, and learning to fail with purpose.
Anyone who cooks or bakes knows how frustrating it is when something you make turns out disastrous. Making food is a labor of love, sometimes a LOT of work, and sometimes you don’t even know what went wrong. Last summer, I was planning to host a friend for a backyard picnic one day, so I made one of my favorite cakes- Martha Stewart’s Strawberry Cake. I’d made it at least a dozen times before with great success- it’s a simple cake recipe topped with strawberries that bake into the surface and get deliciously soft and jammy. I had zero concerns about it, but when we went to bite into it that evening, it had the most awful flavor!! There was something salty, almost acidic about it that was completely inexplicable. I turned the recipe over and over in my head all evening, wondering what I could possibly have done wrong. I was certain I’d added the regular pinch of salt, that I hadn’t mixed up my measuring spoons for baking soda/powder and yet- the awful cake had happened somehow. Sometimes it's much more clear what went wrong: like my mother infamously adding salt instead of sugar to an apple crumble she made for my sister’s birthday several years ago.
I really hate not getting things right on the first try. Perfection is the only option and failure is a personal insult- that’s something I’m unlearning. Baking, developing recipes specifically, is a great exercise for that purpose. A recipe is never in its best form the first time you attempt it, no matter how determined you might be to make it so. You will inevitably learn something in the making of it that you will improve on next time. You will realize that in fact you were too heavy-handed with the flaky salt on your cookies, that baking powder didn’t give you the rise you wanted on your cake, or that the jam you used was too sweet, and you’ll make it better next time. And even better the time after that.
One of the best things so far about starting this blog was looking back through all my oldest photos of things I’d baked. The same bread recipe that I’ve been using the last five years (from Ken Forkish’s Flour Water Salt & Yeast, highly recommend) looks nothing at all like the first time I made it. The first loaf of bread I ever made was incredible. It was underproved, overbaked, and stuck to the pot I’d cooked it in. But it was MY first loaf of bread. I had made something out of nothing, and bread is bread so it tasted damn good spread with butter regardless. Just because that same loaf of bread turns out so much better when I make it now, after five years of practice, it doesn’t mean that my first one was bad. Doesn’t mean that I failed in making it, or that I should strike it from the record and only acknowledge my picture-perfect successes. That was the bread that taught me how to make great bread, to err on the side of proving longer, that my oven ran hot and I should bake at a lower temperature, to properly heat the pot before adding the dough.
I like to think that the same principle applies to the rest of my life. I’ve had jobs that I left feeling drained to the bone, relationships that made me feel like I’d never be happy again, made mistakes that I thought had ruined my entire life. But those awful jobs taught me that I would never regret speaking up for myself instead of quietly tolerating mistreatment, those relationships taught me that looking for love from someone else would never fill the gap I made in not giving love to myself, and every mistake and questionable decision taught me that NOTHING is final. Nothing is the end. I’ve survived all the things I thought would kill me and I came out better for it.
Obviously I’m not like, magically healed now. I still get frustrated when a recipe goes sideways or a new idea won’t come together just the way I want it. But I really have made leaps and bounds of progress in my reaction. Now when something goes wrong, I don’t want to walk away, I want to try again.
Edit 11/27/23: Reader, since I wrote this post, the universe has tested me with a veritable landslide of culinary disasters, including but not limited to: an apple pie that completely fell apart upon demolding, bread that I forgot to put salt in, and a tray of elaborate hors d’oeuvres I’d made for a Friendsgiving that I dropped all over the floor of my car. That last one, in particular, made me cry. Nonetheless, we crack on in all cases. The apple pie was delicious, even deconstructed, the bread was dried out and turned into breadcrumbs for later use, and the hors d’oeuvres situation was explained to a lovely and understanding hostess and a wonderful party was had, regardless. Now please, universe, I’ve learned several lessons, cut me some slack please????
The burn-y cake in question :)