On baking, or rather, not baking

March 14, 2008

While I have several friends who are amazingly proficient at whipping things up from scratch, I realized recently that I have no desire to bake. I quite enjoy the fruits of my friends’ labors, and I do enjoy the smell and heat of the oven, but there is nothing inherent in me. The only reason I want a fancy mixer is so I can paint flames on it.

I don’t feel any less domestic than my friends. I am, after all, a chemist, and chemists are nothing but frustrated cooks. I spend my days following recipes, except that I’m making dyes and acids instead of tasty treats.  I sitting at my desk, eating a seven layer bar from the company cafeteria (which I am THRILLED about,  as I am lazy and avoiding fast food, but not, evidently, incredibly unhealthy snacks), and wondering what on earth would end up in my seven layer bars, if I had to make them out of what was available in my kitchen. It would probably go like this:

  1. Tortillas
  2. Brie
  3. Almonds
  4. Vodka
  5. Peanut Butter
  6. Soy Sauce
  7. Um, love?


  1. Hah, after looking through my fridge my seven layer bars would probably layers upon layers of jam and peanut butter.

  2. Love and Vodka…

    What more do you need?

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