Baptized in Flour and Food Dye
Hey All!
Welcome to my little cozy corner of the internet! Here, I’ll share a bit about who I am, why I do what I do, and some tips and tricks you can try at home. I make one promise: if I wouldn’t feed it to my family, I won’t feed it to you and yours.
Some kids are born into baking, but for me, baking wasn’t just a choice—it was destiny. I was literally baptized in flour and food dye.
I started baking with my dads mom while I spent the summers in Maine. She was by no means a great baker—or even a great cook. Don’t get me wrong, I loved her food and still make some of her comfort dishes. But they were heavy on carbs, lightly seasoned with butter, salt, and pepper, and cooked half to death and back. As a kid, that didn’t matter—what I loved was spending time with her and making things. Even if it was a dry box cake with WAY too much packaged icing. As a little kid it didn’t matter, I was cooking with Nana and I was happy. She would let me make “Secret recipes” and we would cook them to see how they’d turn out. None were actually edible—so full of eggshells that even if they had been, you wouldn’t have wanted to try. Nana bought dry goods in bulk, especially flour, which she kept in a big metal container. Naturally, my curious (or mischievous) little self decided to climb in one day. POOF! Flour exploded everywhere. I crawled out and walked into the living room covered head to toe. Nana’s face and that of my aunts and uncles is forever seared into my brain. It was a foundational memory that reminds me just how much and how long I have loved being in the kitchen getting into trouble.
Around the same time, I terrorized my mother’s kitchen with equal pizazz—this time, with color.
I don’t remember this day specifically but my mom loves to tell a story of when I tried to surprise her with breakfast one morning. When I was about 5yrs old, apparently I wasn’t allowed to use the oven or any knives so in an attempt to make mom breakfast I filled up a bowl with raw eggs, milk and food coloring and who knows what else. There were little food coloring foot steps all over the kitchen when she woke up and a bowl over flowing with my rendition of Jackson Pollock meets Green Eggs and Ham. Five-year-old me was so proud that she didn’t have the heart to tell me—until years later—that she hadn’t actually eaten it. Instead, she made some fresh scrambled eggs. Now, the thought of that much wasted food makes me cringe, but I still absolutely love feeding people.
Whether I chose baking or baking chose me has yet to be officially decided. But one thing is certain—I’ve loved food, cooking, and feeding people for as long as I can remember. Food isn’t just about nourishment; it’s a universal language that brings people together, no matter their culture or background. And that’s exactly why I do what I do. My favorite thing in the world is seeing people eat and genuinely enjoy something I have made.