Pass the Bread Please-or Not!
One day I was browsing through the TV channels looking for an up to date news bulletin when I noticed the number of cooking programmes there were. There were far more than any other kind of programme. Contests, dinner parties, icing a wedding cake - you name it there it was. Did it inspire me to have a look? No it did not! I am a self confessed incompetent as far as cooking goes. I can manage a decent spag bol, shepherds pie or full Sunday roast but cakes and pastry no thanks and bread, well I tried it once, many, many years ago when the girls were small. I followed the receipt to the letter and enjoyed the feeling of the dough in my fingers and the smell as it baked in the oven. It looked delicious - golden brown on the outside and warm to the touch. We all settled down at tea time to consume the said loaf with home made jam - my Mum's. The girls, who were no more than toddlers, spat it out with no compunction at all and who could blame them, it was horrible. Brown and crusty on the outside it may have been but when eventually one could penetrate that golden hard, very hard, crust the inside was sticky and doughy. Cake was the order of the day for two very disgusted daughters who didn't even lick the jam off the bread. Hubby on the other hand gallantly bit hard and chewed. And chewed and eventually swallowed. I had to give in and burst out laughing - it was vile! The rolls I also made remained on the kitchen counter for a while until I eventually threw them in the dustbin. I didn't even feel the birds could tackle those. Mum's canon balls became a family joke for years and thus I have never ventured into a dough making frenzy ever again. Cakes too have passed me by - when we are fund raising for the two churches I look after, Christchurch Whittington and All Saints Wretton with Stoke Ferry, I am never asked to make cakes. To tell the truth I have never, ever had a Victoria sponge rise higher than a thick pancake. This is despite Delia, Jane at school and my Mum. And so, if ever you come to my house for a meal just make sure it is spag bol, shepherds pie, a roast or someone else made it. Carol Nicholas-Letch