My entire life I've been told that you are either a cook or a baker.
I have to be a baker. I can eat a cookie, a cake...a pie...a brownie any time of the day, any day of the week. I have to be-I love to bake it and I LOVE to eat it. There have been times in my house that I have made an entire batch of cookies and have eaten every last bit of cookie within a day. Look it's happened.
If you have had the pleasure to stroll upon one of my desserts, like the one below, you may question my decision on being a baker and not a cook. You may actually want me to be a cook just so you don't have to eat such an ugly pie. I understand.
As much as I wish to be a cook. It will never happen. I have a disorder...a following directions disorder. I HAVE to follow directions. I cannot stray. I cannot waiver. What is written must be done.
I made a Tomato Crouton dish the other night and it said to dice the tomatoes in 1/2" dices. It took me so freaking long to dice those tomatoes it wasn't even worth it. I almost took the ruler from the drawer just to ensure they were exactly 1/2". As I was walking towards the drawer I realized how crazy that is. Cooks don't get a ruler! That's just embarrassing.
So, I made the Tomato Crouton dish which turned out not to be so great.
Was it the fact that the tomatoes were not measured perfectly to a 1/2 inch dice? We may never know, but probably.
So, I went straight away to baking. I had to. I needed a safe haven where following directions is not a disorder, but a service to your stomach. As my finger glided seamlessly across my measuring cup to get an exact cup of sugar I felt right at home.
I am a baker by default. I have problems.