Super Bowl can be a tricky thing to bake for. It’s a day of gluttony, with more warm, cheesy appetizers, heavy sports food, and beer than you actually want to consume in one sitting, but you do anyways because it’s always placed directly in front of the TV you can’t walk away from.
This was one of those weeks where it was getting to be most of the way through Saturday and I was quickly coming to the conclusion that I did not have time to bake. I began to panic. How terrible would it be if I posted a review of that awesome magic bar I had? (Go to Petsi Pies in Somerville.) Did I have anyone in mind that could guest post? (Marj, it felt too last minute to ask you.) In short, I was in a tight spot.
Baking is amazingly therapeutic. If I’m stressed out, it calms me down. If I’m upset, it cheers me up. If I need some time with friends, it has a way of bringing them together. I can tailor the recipes I choose to the mood I’m in. Day already going pretty well? A short recipe with a quick result makes it even better. Day going pretty rough? I turn to something more involved that I can get lost in.
My original plan was to make croissants this weekend, but time, as it often does, got away from me. However, I was stuck on the idea of making a recipe with yeast. I wanted something a little complicated, but not two-day complicated.
I don’t think anything wears you out like hiking up a mountain in the snow. Getting up early, layering up, climbing, and slide-walking back down really take it out of you. Though I do think I’m officially a winter hiking convert.
You know you’ve found some great friends when they show up at your apartment, start rooting around in your cabinets, and ask if there’s enough time for them to bake a batch of cookies before taking off on a 6 day vacation sure to be full of kitchen time. That’s what happened on Wednesday when a couple friends from college showed up (Happy Birthday, Marj!).
When your first stop picking up ingredients for baking is the liquor store, you know it’s going to be a good week. And when the recipe calls for a pound of butter (that’s an entire 4 stick box), you know it’s going to be that much better.
Law school exam period is this weird time where days stop having meaning and everything you do is with the goal of simply surviving. I get up, go to the library, come home, sleep, and repeat. It could be Saturday or Tuesday for all I know.