I bake because I love to feel flour on my palms and don’t mind getting dough underneath my fingernails.
I bake because the scent of lemon bars in the oven takes me right back home. Every time.
I bake because when it seems like absolutely nothing is going right, I know that if I follow the recipe instructions, I can have warm chocolate cake in exactly forty five minutes.
I bake because there is nothing so perfect as Italian buttercream.
I bake because I love the way soft butter combines with sugar, forming creamy peaks and grains of sweetness.
I bake because I love the way meringue crackles on my tongue before melting away completely.
I bake because it’s part of who I am and because I’m never so at home as when I’m in my tiny kitchen, covered with flour, with my hands sunk deep in dough.