The joy of baking is, obviously, the “snacks.” You know, the clump of brown sugar that you just can’t bring yourself to put in the measuring cup, the fingerful of creamed butter/sugar so light and fluffy that it seems to have sprung into your mouth uninvited, the scoop of batter that you have to make sure tastes just right.
That is what Oliver and Elsa discovered yesterday when I recruited them to make the Saturday morning muffins. (Simon was invited as well, but he got distracted by words on a page, as he is apt to do.) But Oliver and Elsa made formidable baking duo, once they stopped arguing over who got to do what and found their callings. Oliver measured the ingredients. Elsa was in charge of the “snacks.” The two took turns stirring, alternating that task with licking whatever stirring implement was not being used.
Despite the distractions, the two did a fabulous job of making the muffins (blueberry poppy seed, if you must know). I only stepped in to retrieve ingredients—and to fill the muffin cups with batter. If I hadn’t done that, I’m not sure there would have been any batter left to bake.
Yep. I think baking won a couple of converts yesterday. Rightfully so, of course. There is a lot of joy to be had therein.