So here I am, trying to create more work for myself with a new blog.  I still write in a traditional diary; love those fancy papers and nothing pleases me more than seeing my *beautiful* handwriting scrawled across the pages.   Still,  I think I type faster than I can write.  I’ll reserve the papers for times when I don’t feel like turning on the computer.  I’ll admit, some things are better with pictures.  Things like food.  Oh yeah,  I’m on a mission, darlings.  To fatten the world.

Contrary to what most of my friends believe, I’m more of a chef than a baker.  Surprised?  I started out cooking and disliked baking.  Mostly because I burnt my 1st cake in home economics class when I was 14.  Self esteem took a plunge and I decided that baking was really not my thing.  I conclude: Ego-defence mechanism at work.

Years later, I trudged on to bake my 1st cheesecake for my ex’s birthday.  See the kinda things love make people do?  In my case, among many other things, love made me bake a cake–something I thought I couldn’t do even if my life depended on it.

Well, the cheesecake happened to be my 1st successful cake, and soon it was also known to be the only cake I could bake.  Because…due to my fear for failure, I refused to try baking anything else.  At all.

The poor ex had to eat cheesecakes for his birthday for err…quite a few years.  Yes, maybe that’s why we broke up.  Ha.  Okay, it really IS quite funny now if you look at it in that perspective. Don’t mind me.  I’ve been told I have a dry and morbid sense of humour.  Embrace it.

Truth is, I’m devoted to gifting people handmade things.  Made from my heart, with love.  And even I got bored with the darned cheesecake and went on to attempt  other bakes.  They weren’t the best but I guess they were good enough for gifting.

Now I can’t stop.  Cooking and baking is therapeutic for me and the kitchen is my happy place.  There’s an ineffable, peaceful joy in this solitary affair; I’m quiet, calm, and it’s what I  will do when I need to be away to find my silence.  These days, I simply toss my failed bakes into the chute with no mercy.   Of course it’d still feel like a full-blown Armageddon, right in my face.  I toiled over those miserable failures, alright!  But then I had also learnt to be intrepid.  Just start over, and the sun will shine.

I don’t really have a preference now, baking or cooking–they go along in the same line for me.  But why does it seem like I’m baking more?  Because I’m on a mission, people! Logically speaking, wouldn’t it be easier to gift chocolates and cookies and cupcakes, as opposed to, I don’t know, clam chowder and medium rare steaks?

Anyhow, this isn’t a food blog;  I’m no expert although food’s a big detail here.  I will need this to get myself sorted out whenever I feel confused or conflicted.  Many people say or act like they know exactly what they are doing, but trust me,  in sooth, most people are more confused than they’d like to admit.  I’d much rather accept and soak up the reality that I will feel lost occasionally, so it’ll be easier to get myself rearranged, and then I can proceed to carry on dauntlessly.

In that same bold and courageous manner, you’ll take on my chocolates, butter, sugar, a lil salt for luck, and all the good things whipped up from my kitchen.

Behold!  Be still, and know that I am everything your cardiologist warned you about.   Breathe in the scent, and feel free to go overboard.

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