I had the chance to peruse The Baker a couple of weeks back, and as much as I adored the narrow depth-of-field composition and rustic homely styling, I must admit that I wasn’t as impressed by the few recipes I’ve tried as I was with the in-depth baking troubleshooting pointers it included in every chapter. And for that, most nights I ended up with the book on my lap, just reading through the detailed explanations behind common mistakes of perceived failed bakes;– an undeniably great appealing factor to both novice and experienced bakers, and perhaps, concurrently the book’s saving grace.
Truth of the matter is that I’ve had this post lying in the depths of my drafts folder for months now, without the faintest idea of a captivating enough prose to accompany it. While I could easily blame it on several factors;– poor time management, a writer’s block, uninspiring photographs, a nondescript subject;– and simply forgo writing this altogether, I feel almost obliged to address a certain flavour that is often overlooked in this blog. And yet, here I am, pecking away at a slice of lemon-glazed strawberry yoghurt loaf cake on this cold and wet evening, wondering how I’m supposed to wax lyrical about a far-from-iridescent bake, when I currently have near-heaven in my mouth.
And yet, I must.