Blue Mountains Photographer ~ Weekend Baking…

There is a great pleasure in watching someone else cook.

It’s a luxury.  For me.

As a mother of three children, I spend much of my time thinking about their nutrition.  What they had for breakfast, lunch, dinner… how to balance their food groups, make sure they get enough calcium, how to fix good, nutritious, economically viable, tasty meals.  It never ends.  I spend a lot of time cooking from scratch, creating something ‘new’, doing something ‘different’ that everyone will like.

Sometimes I am just ‘over’ food.  I just get to the point that I’ve had enough of the thinking, the buying, the planning…

So when someone else starts to cook for me, it’s the ultimate kick.

A cold winter’s day on a bleak Sunday afternoon.

Their planning…

Gluten free because I can’t eat the stuff…

Their routines… not yours.

Their style… not your own.

Their effort… not yours.

BLISS.

My grandmother used to save the paper from the butter so that she could wipe the cake tins with it too.   The comfort of repeating the same things, years later…

Cooking as an act of remembrance…

I just get to sit and watch everything being done.  And take photographs, of course.

The comfort of routine.

The familiarity of it all.

The colours, and noises and the best bit, the smells…

The scrape of the spoon…

The kitchen warm from the oven… cakes rising through the glass…

A sift of icing sugar…  and we’re done.

Friands … eaten with a great coffee… and in good company, with a roaring fire….

And I didn’t have to do a thing.  : )

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