Let Them Eat Cake...

I've always found comfort in baking.  Some of my happiest childhood memories were spent in the kitchen with my mom and grandma.  It wasn't a place for boys or men, but they made an exception for me.  I've mentioned on the blog before about how after our family dynamics changed, I felt as though I had all but disappeared as the youngest child and would often times act out to gain attention.  They let me help in the kitchen and that made me feel special.  I wasn't ignored or dismissed.  I wasn't yelled at for making a mess.  I was praised for my cakes and confections.

Whenever I get stressed, I gravitate towards the kitchen.  (One year, when I lived with six other roommates in a doll factory... I almost never left the kitchen.  It seemed as though I had taken up permanent residence in front of the oven.  Yep.  It was that bad... but I got really good at cobblers and crumbles!)

Today was a challenge.

So, I made a lemon cake with butter cream frosting sprinkled with chopped candied lemon peel.

The thing about cooking is that you can take a few simple ingredients and transform them into something that can make someone abandon all social norms and squeal with delight or moan with pleasure in public (without it being extremely awkward).  You can follow a recipe or follow your heart.  You can make something that nourishes the body, but can also nourish the heart and soul.  It's a way to show love.

It might seem silly, but it's just something that I do.


(This slice is actually my second piece.  I forgot to add the limoncello gelato on the side the first time and had to take another picture.  Sometimes you do what you have to do.)