Can't Bake Me Love
Hi all. It's December. If you've been keeping track, it's been a full three months since I last posted something. And it wasn't planned. I feel like I blinked and about 100 days passed by and my blog just didn't happen. I'll continue to lean on the excuse that I always circle back to when I feel guilty for momentarily abandoning this little page that I promised myself back when I started to write that I would only write as long as I was finding joy in it. And it's not that I wasn't finding joy in writing the past few months, it's just that there were several other things that required my attention and my blog suddenly became a non-priority. But, I've found myself over the last couple of months doing something or reflecting on something and thinking, "that would be a nice thing to put in the blog" and then I would do absolutely nothing about it. So, we get back into it.
And I thought I would get back into it by talking about baking. As you're reading this, I am in the midst of a baking marathon that only I would think possible. I had this then-brilliant thought a few months ago that I would just bake all of my gifts this year. A wonderful plan: homemade, thoughtful, budget-friendly, everything a good gift should be. And yet, I had this wonderful plan and forgot to take into account that in order for everything to taste its best, everything would need to be gifted within days of being baked. And I'm also staying at my parents house during the bulk of this gift-giving period, and their oven recently went to the big kitchen in the sky. So, taking all that into account, I have from the end of work on Friday until Monday night to bake what I would charitably call way too much stuff. Today is Wednesday, so I am still in the preparatory/dread stage of this looming undertaking. I have spreadsheets, I have checklists, I have a recipe file. When you read this after I post it this weekend, just imagine me in surely what will be my current form, covered head-to-toe in frosting and scaring my cat as I sing along to Shania Twain.
I bake a lot, not just around the holidays. My Netflix love is the Great British Bake Off, and I think that became the basis of my inspiration to really go for new and challenging baked goods. I don't know if I would have ever attempted macarons or pain au chocolat if I hadn't watched people be forced to make them to time in a pastel tent while light flute music plays in the background. And it's been so fun. And I'll bake and bring things into the office or give them out to friends or bring some to my family. In the midst of that, a few people brought something up that really gave me pause. They had the suggestion that I should charge people and bake things to order.
This is, at its basis, truly one of the best compliments I've ever received, and the people who said it I am 100% certain meant it as their highest form of praise. And it was also something that I immediately pushed back against internally, which has been the real source of the reflection. Why shouldn't I sell the things I make? It's something that I do often anyway. It's an extra source of income. It's a way to connect with people and create something that brings them joy. And yet I just don't want to. So, like any normal person would, I dove into the depths of my psyche to find the base reasons for why I love to bake and why I wouldn't be able to accept money for delivered goods and services.
This is what I came up with for reasons I love to bake:
And I thought I would get back into it by talking about baking. As you're reading this, I am in the midst of a baking marathon that only I would think possible. I had this then-brilliant thought a few months ago that I would just bake all of my gifts this year. A wonderful plan: homemade, thoughtful, budget-friendly, everything a good gift should be. And yet, I had this wonderful plan and forgot to take into account that in order for everything to taste its best, everything would need to be gifted within days of being baked. And I'm also staying at my parents house during the bulk of this gift-giving period, and their oven recently went to the big kitchen in the sky. So, taking all that into account, I have from the end of work on Friday until Monday night to bake what I would charitably call way too much stuff. Today is Wednesday, so I am still in the preparatory/dread stage of this looming undertaking. I have spreadsheets, I have checklists, I have a recipe file. When you read this after I post it this weekend, just imagine me in surely what will be my current form, covered head-to-toe in frosting and scaring my cat as I sing along to Shania Twain.
I bake a lot, not just around the holidays. My Netflix love is the Great British Bake Off, and I think that became the basis of my inspiration to really go for new and challenging baked goods. I don't know if I would have ever attempted macarons or pain au chocolat if I hadn't watched people be forced to make them to time in a pastel tent while light flute music plays in the background. And it's been so fun. And I'll bake and bring things into the office or give them out to friends or bring some to my family. In the midst of that, a few people brought something up that really gave me pause. They had the suggestion that I should charge people and bake things to order.
This is, at its basis, truly one of the best compliments I've ever received, and the people who said it I am 100% certain meant it as their highest form of praise. And it was also something that I immediately pushed back against internally, which has been the real source of the reflection. Why shouldn't I sell the things I make? It's something that I do often anyway. It's an extra source of income. It's a way to connect with people and create something that brings them joy. And yet I just don't want to. So, like any normal person would, I dove into the depths of my psyche to find the base reasons for why I love to bake and why I wouldn't be able to accept money for delivered goods and services.
This is what I came up with for reasons I love to bake:
- Baking is truly one of the things in my life that just comes easily to me. I don't have to think about it. I don't know if it's genetic, or if I've absorbed information through osmosis from watching other bakers, or if it's just a God-given talent, but generally I make things that taste good. And there are times when I feel like I'm not very good at anything, or that everything that in my life involves too much effort on my part, so sometimes it's nice to try something and have it just come out right.
- I generally only bake with the intention of giving everything away to someone else. Baking for others is, in my mind, one of the simplest forms of gift-giving. It's an opportunity to do something small that becomes so much more than the sum of its parts. Baking almost becomes a gift of sustenance, or even comfort. Because giving gifts is one of my love languages, I get to use baking to let someone know that I care.
- Baking is the one aspect of my self care that I know really, really works. I feel better when I bake. It occupies space in my brain because I have to concentrate on things being measured correctly, make sure things aren't burning, and follow the recipe so everything ends up the way it's supposed to. Every part of baking is therapeutic for me. I love to melt chocolate. I love to pipe icing. I love to check on my dough and see how much it's risen. I love to watch things bubble and bake in the oven. I love to taste test. Baking is an activity that brings me comfort in every aspect, and that's so important as I continue to work on my mental health.
- It's a way to receive recognition. If I'm being honest, I'm don't really "achieve" a lot of things right now. I'm single, I'm not getting a new car or making any other milestone purchase in the near future, I don't have the opportunity to travel a lot, I'm living a journey of mental and physical health that is generally invisible, and so baking is a way for me to achieve something. I absolutely lean in to the doses of dopamine that I get from having someone tell me how much they liked something I made, or getting a little heart eyes emoji comment on the Instagram photo that I spent way too much time staging so the natural light bounced off the powdered sugar just right. It feels incredibly vain and ridiculous to say, but I like having something that I can show off and receive praise for.
And so you say, Lauren, this is great, but this doesn't quite make sense as to why you can't sell what you make. It's something that you are good at, something that comforts you, and something that you already give away. You're absolutely right, I would respond. On paper, there is nothing in this baking philosophy I reflected on that means I can't charge money. But I just don't want to. Somehow, for reasons I tried and failed to explain, food for profit = food that doesn't contain as much love. My brain tells me that money will turn something that I depend on for self-care into a job with expectation and opportunity for failure. That is truly beyond the scope of rationality, but it's the only thing I can come up with. Maybe I'll get to the bottom of that thinking someday. Maybe you'll find me selling cookies and stuff in three months. Maybe after this weekend baking marathon I'll swear off baking forever. But for the moment, I love to bake things and will continue to give them away. For free.
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