Batter Up

      Fall is here and in my world, it is the start of the Baking Season.   Baking is the perfect hobby. Low cost and safe, it meets my fuss budget criteria. Unlike a friend who long ago, wowed me by whipping up a cake while texting and feeding twins; I prefer a more laid- back approach. Surprised? Before beginning to bake, everything else must be done and I mean everything. Baking requires the perfect environment. A clean house, the right lighting, music, no distractions… basically between midnight and three a.m. Inspired by the competitions that I enjoy watching on TV, last week I made cookies that gave a whole new meaning to the words dry and tasteless. The TV cookie competitions are impressive, but the cake competitions are over the top. Putting marble to shame, professional cake artists create life size cakes in the shape of people, animals and even furniture. Defying gravity is not enough, these cakes have to pass the taste test. I don’t know how they do it. Last season I watched one team create a Christmas cake in the shape of a reindeer with a life size Mrs. Claus happily feeding hot chocolate to a cluster of cake elves. The holiday baking shows are a treat but my favorite TV baking competition can be enjoyed year- round. It is an understatement to say that I am captivated by the cupcake competitions. I do more than watch; I am glued to the set. I even enjoy watching repeat shows. I know who will win, but I hang on every delicious moment with a level of attention unmatched in my academic life. Such drama, such emotion, such frosting, I love it.

        The cupcake culture is a 21st Century phenomena, but I made my share of cookies, brownies, and cakes. Where were the competitions when I could have joined the fray? I had no idea that the humble art of flour, sugar, eggs, and frosting could hold such drama. “Your butter cream, it is tasteless, but I love your bourbon filling.” I watch as a grown woman emotionally flips from utter dejection to happiness. The contestants are not home cooks; they are the owners of bakeries or head bakers, and they are out to win. “This is war. I am here to win,” declares Tiffany, who is wearing a little pink skirt with a matching pink bow in her hair. Definitely not the lawyer crowd, the competing bakers have their own style and it is more Barbie than Ken. No black pant suits on this show. My ability to sit and watch for hours surprises me, but I draw a parallel to men who sit, and watch sports all day. I am knitting so I can put a check in the being productive box. Last week I sent my daughter a text, “Watching a cupcake competition, it’s a mother - daughter team, we can do this!” The fact that she doesn’t bake is not taken into account. Undaunted by reality, I continue, “I know the two of us can meet the challenge to create three cupcakes that capture the essence of competitive bull riding.” Bull riding? I like a challenge but a bull riding cupcake? YES! I’ve got this. How about bourbon filled dark chocolate with baked meringue that is covered with finely chopped nuts to represent saw dust? This is war and I’m here to win.