baking

I am not a baker.

The science of baking intimidates me to this day. When something comes out of the oven, I’m always unsure, nervous about whether it turned out right – even with something I’ve baked before. You have to have to have faith once something is in the oven; there’s no opportunity to fix it, no going back after that.

Despite this, 2020 has been full of baking. Even before this year, I had started dipping my toes into the water, but in 2020 I waded in. Having something sweet to eat at home has been a respite for me. I have only ventured to attempt bread once or twice, as it is well beyond my comfort zone, but there have been plenty of cakes, cookies, and muffins. 

For the last few years, I have baked lots of cookies around the holidays. I know this is a tradition for many people, but it was not a tradition in my home. My childhood was filled with boxed cake mixes and the Pillsbury cookie dough rolls, low touch ways to get decent quality freshly baked goods. It occurred to me only recently that baking is not a part of the North Indian cooking I grew up with; most desserts are made on the stovetop, like these laddoos. I can’t remember if my grandmothers’ kitchens even had ovens. Perhaps this is due to the sheer impracticality of turning on an oven in Delhi’s summer heat. 

I always have a hodgepodge of cookies left after distributing the ones I had planned to give out (and testing a few for quality assurance). I try to make at least two or three types, so there is something for everyone (as well as a safety net for baking mishaps). I love to give gifts, and extra cookies means that I often show up to dinners or happy hours in December with cookies to share. Last year, my friend Christina happened to be in town in mid-December. I was meeting her for dinner, so I brought along a ribboned bag of cookies as a gift. When I told her they were homemade, she eyed them a little suspiciously. I couldn’t blame her.

My first memory of baking cookies from scratch is in high school, with Christina. We were making chocolate chip cookies, the two of us along with her younger sister. I was comfortable in Christina’s house in the way that only happens when you are younger; you get to know your friends’ families, because the only place to hang out is at each other’s houses. The three of us were at the back countertop, adding ingredients to the cookie dough per the recipe. I should have told someone I had never done this before; maybe I would have been more closely supervised.

When the cookies came out of the oven, we were excited – there’s nothing like a freshly baked cookie. Christina took a bite of one and immediately made a face. “It’s salty!”. A little sleuthing led us to realize that I had added a tablespoon of salt instead of a teaspoon, rendering the cookies inedible (though that didn’t stop me from trying one). Christina’s family remembers this unfortunate incident to this day. So when I gave her cookies fifteen years later, she was, understandably, a little worried.

Christina and I became friends early on in high school, during our freshman year. It was a new school for all incoming freshmen, which meant starting over and making new friends. Christina was cool, and I…well, I was not. She seemed to have already found her footing a few months into freshman year, and I was the awkward Indian girl (the only Indian student in our class of nearly 100). Our first conversation, which was about shower pressure in the gym during dance practice, left me thoroughly unimpressed. It’s something I still tease her about to this day; I didn’t think, at the time, that we would become such good friends with that lackluster beginning.

Over dinner last year, Christina recounted a story about the beginning of our friendship, something I don’t remember at all. My birthday is a few days before Christmas, and we always had a long break at the holidays in high school, so our international students could travel home. School was never open on my birthday. Christina told me that she had been determined to give me a birthday present that first year of high school. She and her mother drove over to our town and around our neighborhood, even knocking at the wrong door once, so she could drop off a gift. I was so surprised; I remember freshman year being confusing and often lonely at times, and I wished I hadn’t forgotten such a thoughtful gesture. I got a text from her later that night, after we had parted ways: “Those are some tasty cookies!”. It put a smile on my face.

I suspect the trauma of the inedible cookies had some subconscious effects. I didn’t start baking on my own, from scratch, until my mid-twenties. I had only really become comfortable with cooking after college, and I hadn’t had such an active sweet tooth when I was younger. I still defaulted to a boxed cake mix when I needed dessert. In browsing cookbooks and blogs, I started to absorb tips and tricks for baking (spoon and sweep the flour, weigh your ingredients, follow directions!) and eventually I dared to try a few experiments. I learned that using my hand mixer always made a mess of my kitchen, and that Google has an answer to even the most bizarre baking questions. Not everything tasted good (and occasionally things went in the trash).

Now, I gravitate towards simple recipes – not too many ingredients or too many steps, and ideally ones where I don’t need to break out the hand mixer. I’ve learned that lessening the sugar a bit in any recipe usually makes it more suited to my palate, and that adding a dash of spice here and there never hurts. I always skim the comments on an online recipe; there are often recommendations for substitutions or additions in there that work beautifully. I’ve started to build up a repertoire now; nothing fancy, and not always pretty, but almost always tasty.

My favorite thing about baking is that it’s easy to share. The Cookie Monster (the wisest muppet of all) says that a friend is someone you’ll share your last cookie with. But the first dozen cookies in a batch? I’m happy to share those with everyone: coworkers, acquaintances, other people at the bar. It’s an easy gift to give with a personal touch – and really, as someone living alone, sharing is the only practical thing to do. When visitors come to stay, I always try to have something freshly baked around; a good cake or muffin can double as breakfast or a snack. It makes me happy to share something homemade with my guest; to me, sharing food is an act of love.

This December, I baked at least one hundred cookies, all (mostly) edible, all meeting my criteria for a simple recipe. If you, too, are unsure of your baking skills, give these a try. I hope they’ll build your confidence as they’ve built mine.

I don’t know that I will ever call myself a baker. But I will keep baking anyway.

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies - a fall favorite; the comments will suggest adjustments if you want to use the whole can of pumpkin

Cardamom Currant Snickerdoodles - a twist on the ever wonderful snickerdoodle

Triple Ginger Cookies - a wonderful spiced cookie

Chocolate Chip Cookies - these are the perfect freezer cookie; scoop them out individually, freeze them and put them into a freezer bag, and take out as needed to bake. if you have a toaster oven, you can have a warm cookie in about 30 minutes (freezer to warmed toaster oven to five minutes rest on the tray)

Chocolate Crinkle Cookies - for the chocolate lover in your life