It all started with a loaf of bread...

Hello! My name is Anna. I’ve recently graduated from University and am in dire need of a project. I have spent my last three years ‘swotting’, meaning I am now panicked by the idea of free time. This blog was kindly suggested by family members as a way to ‘chill the hell out!’ however my love for baking has a much longer (and slightly less neurotic) history...

The clue is in the title. When I was little I remember being awoken every Sunday morning by the smell of freshly made bread. My childhood memories are tinged with this smell. This was because every Sunday my dad used to get up and make fresh bread, cakes and other baked goods for us all for the week. (NOTE: this plan had a flaw in it, because the goodies were so tasty, they never made it past Monday). My younger brother and I being the dutiful children that we are offered to help my dad by licking the bowl of chocolate cake mix clean. Word caught on about my dad’s amazing baking skills, and soon enough he became the chief baker for every family party we had. To the point where he now regularly makes his own birthday cake!

I asked my dad where he learnt to bake, and he said from his mother. My grandma is a tough cookie, and an even better baker. It is a well known fact that her cheesecake is the best you’ll ever have. (If you’re lucky I’ll share with you that golden recipe!)

As I’ve gotten older I’ve become more interested in the actual baking, rather than just the scoffing of the end products, and began to take a more active role in the helping. To the point where I was even given my own apron and rolling pin (pink, of course). So I’m trying to follow in the family footsteps and hone in on my baking inheritance.

I find baking very therapeutic, and as Kate Shirazi notes in her ‘Baking Magic’ book, there is scientific evidence for this (so it must be real!). There’s something so satisfying and relaxing about kneading some dough. I also get quite excited about the cooking part too (lame i know...) Because more often than not the dough goes in to the oven looking like a suspicious slop like mixture, however 30 minutes later out comes a golden brown, mouthwatering, beautiful smelling loaf of bread which you can proudly say to yourself ‘I did that.’

So as a dedication to my wonderful baker dad I am starting up the Sunday morning baking club a place where I hope we can share recipes and our ‘I did that’ moments. I hope you like the recipes I try to tackle, and you never know with a bit of luck, one day I might be half the baker my dad is.