baking – Winking at Life

I was dozing in my easy chair, when I suddenly smelt something familiar – a baking cake! What was it? Butter cake? Sugee cake? Fruit cake? Memories of preparations for Christmas flooded in. Mum would start the Christmas baking about the beginning of December, the second week of the Advent season. She would be baking into the early hours of the morning.

During the day we, kids would be hauled in to help out with mincing dried mixed fruit, raisins, preserved winter melon, cherries, almonds and everything else that needed mincing and cutting. Our Ah Ee (Aunty) who was our housekeeper and nanny, would be preparing and making the pineapple jam for the jam tarts. As she stirred the grated pineapple and sugar, over the hot stove, the smell of cinnamon and cloves would also emanate from the thick bubbling sweet mixture. When that was done, the baking would start in earnest.

Dad would take leave from work a week before Christmas, which was also during our school holidays. His job was to make the pastry for the jam tarts. Mum would pour in the ingredients following her recipe and Dad would mix them together and knead the dough. Mum was always very precise about the measurements of ingredients, as she wanted a perfectly consistent result.

We’d set up our jam tart ‘factory’ when the dough was ready. Each of us kids had a specific job. I often cut the pastry for the tart bases and the topping decorations. My sisters would be greasing the patty tins and filling in the jam and my brother would be managing the oven. Mum would be the supervisor and overseer of these proceedings. Those were the days when this was our pre-Christmas family activity. It was fun, haggling, shouting, playing with the dough and eating up the rejects that didn’t turn out right. There was, of course, the tasting, which was an excuse to eat some of the good ones before time, as many of the cakes and jam tarts would go to neighbours and friends first.

We always looked forward to the cake making in anticipation of being allowed to lick the spoon and bowl off remnants of raw cake mix, after the cake tins were filled and put into the oven to bake. The smell of baking cakes and tarts was the smell of Christmas!

It also evokes memories of ‘pau'(Chinese steamed buns) suppers after mid-night mass, which in the 1960’s and 70’s actually started at 10.00pm on Christmas eve and ended about 12.00am on Christmas morning with everyone wishing each other ” Merry Christmas!” after the service. It was a jolly time and we even smiled at and greeted people we didn’t know! This rarely happens nowadays when people often only greet the people they know or talk to. Some of the joy seems to have been lost over time, or perhaps as adults we have lost the wonder of childhood in our electronic and scientific less sociable virtual world.

I bought a measuring jug, the other day. Something I was missing for a very long time since I moved in with my mother after Dad’s passing over eight years ago. My old measuring jug is misplaced among my pile of belongings, scattered among those of the rest of the family.

I’ve moved several times, trying to make a fresh start after my beloved life companion passed away nearly twenty years ago. They all seemed to have fizzled out for one reason or another. However, I’ve never lost my love of food and the creation of things edible. Food and making yummy edibles, chills me out. It’s a really relaxing occupation, just thinking about the myriad possibilities of what could be created from basic food stuffs like beans, eggs, flour, oil, sugar etc.

I’m quite fascinated by bread making, especially made by hand. Lots of hard work, from such simple ingredients like flour, sugar, salt, yeast, oil and water. Bread is a common food in virtually all cultures, from east to west on this planet. Bread in it’s various forms sustains life.

So, getting back to my wonderful purchase ie. the measuring jug, it felt great to be able to measure out several ingredients with just one jug without having to fiddle with knobs or weights to get a basic measurement. It doesn’t need any batteries either. This simple device is an amazing invention for the home cook who just wants to give family and friends an enjoyable meal. It needn’t be earth-shattering, but a lovely taste-bud memory.

Armed with this wonder jug, I feel empowered to create as many of the mouth watering creations shared by other expert chefs as well as doing some of my own little experiments.

My google search for the history of the measuring cup brought up these facts.

The measuring cup was invented by Fannie Farmer in 1896. It is said that this “new concept was published in a book called “The Boston Cooking School Cook Book” which was written by her when she was the director of the Boston Cooking School.” (https://ifood.tv/equipment/measuring-cup/about)

How ingenious, and invented by a woman as well! Thank you Fannie Farmer, you made life much easier for millions of cooks all over the globe! How EMPOWERING!