Yes, I said it. It’s happening. I’m turning into my mother. I don’t mean the whole, “If you don’t quit making that face, it’ll freeze like that.” I never bought that line, so I don’t sell it. I just tell them it’s annoying or they look stupid.
No, I’m referring to recipe tweakification. (That’s not a word? I’m an author. I henceforth declare it a word.) When I was little, my mom almost never followed recipes. Oh, for baking she’d have some, but even then would add some of this and a little of that. She began cooking solo in her early to mid-teens. I didn’t break out to solo sauteing adventures until I was about nineteen. It’s one thing to assist as sous chef and another to man the whole operation.
My first foray into cooking involved lots of Lea and Perrins. What can I say? I loved the stuff. Eat food tasting like it long enough, and even the most die-hard fans will want other seasoning. I bought some Indian cookbooks, and then ventured into tried and true American classics, and then I discovered baking. My very first baking project was a pumpkin pie. I think I ate it all myself because the ex didn’t like pumpkin pie. It turned out well, even if I was sick of pumpkin pie by week’s end. I then tried cookies, and cakes, and found that brownies were my kryptonite. I was hitting my stride when gluten intolerance struck (and dairy intolerance).
I didn’t quite go all the way back to square one, but there was definitely a learning curve in regards to the many flours and starches used in GF baking. I still use recipes, especially if it’s a new dish, but I’m not afraid to venture beyond the ingredients list.
On Easter Sunday, I made some lovely dinner rolls. Granted, I didn’t let them rise long enough, and they may have needed a bit more flour to maintain a rounder shape, but the texture and taste were lovely. A guest asked, “There’s no gluten in these? At all?”
That, my internet denizens is a sign of GF baking success. I had been worried, because I essentially cobbled together a couple of different recipes. Soup king asked what I put in it, and I started listing ingredients and the additions to the recipes. He expressed frustration that I never exactly follow a recipe anymore. I commiserate. I had the same frustration once with my mother.