Because I feel guilty. 'Cos as a working mother most of the time I don't do that cooking, baking thing - never have done even when not doing the working mum bit. I cook - they don't starve, they don't live off frozen ready meals but I don't do 'real' cooking like Nigella and the like. My mum didn't do it so I didn't learn it and frankly it all seems too much like hard work.
So now I am not only guilty of not feeding my kids home-baked fare but also guilty of not passing on the art, even the pleasure, of cooking so that they may develop into women who can be mistress of the kitchen.
A week of this. It started well with a surprise success on the bread but it's all gone downhill since then. Day two - a less than perfect apple pie. Today - a disastrous display of barely recognisable jam tarts. Methinks short cut pastry is not my thing!
Now this being a true challenge with no short cuts allowed, I determined to make my own strawberry filling for the tarts. Followed the recipe to the letter. OK that's a lie. It demanded a vanilla pod and orange liqueur neither of which I have nor intend to find. Vanilla essence will have to do - along with one pound strawberries chopped, one pound sugar, a splash of lemon juice, heated, simmered for several minutes and then cooled.
Short cut pastry still fell short (see yesterday's post) but what the heck, we're making those little tarts and with a bit of stretching I filled all 12 - just. Poured in the strawberry mixture but it's very runny. I am hoping it will congeal in the oven.
There is loads left over so I boil the mixture up (yes, I've read up on strawberry jam too!), keep it hot for a few minutes, do that testing to see if it's 'set' thing by pouring a spoonful onto a cool saucer and drawing my finger through it (sounding like a real pro now, aren't I?). Pour into an old - but clean - marmalade jar and leave to cool.
Forty minutes later......
It's not looking good. The sticky strawberry mixture has spread itself around the tray fixing the tarts into place better than super glue. Apparently cooked sugar becomes rock-hard toffee!
Eldest daughter is home unwell and emerges just in time to laugh at the tray of tarts coming out of the oven. She volunteers to tease them out of the tray. It gets nasty and messy and frankly nothing like the strawberry tarts you see in those nice illustrations.
It's lunchtime but her breakfast so I make her toast and she asks for my home-made strawberry jam - even though it's not totally cool yet.
Score for jam? Eight and a half she says!
Score for tart (one of the few I managed to get out of tray without a full-scale massacre):
8 - if you close your eyes.
Could be worse......
And for the record, I have experienced no great epiphany yet. I am expecting to start glowing in a golden halo of heavenly light at some point when I morph into this perfect creature- the one who nurtures, nourishes, bakes and bastes. Maybe it's too early yet. Maybe I need to get past the "oh christ, this isn't working" phase.
Maybe it will never happen.
Maybe we born to cook and cannot have culinary greatness thrust upon us....
