I’ve been blogging a lot about cakes I’ve done over the years, trying to think about how I’ve grown and changed as a baker. I think this has been a positive exercise. However, I’m taking a break from the positivity of my Wrecks to Success series of posts to post about something negative that bugs the baking soda right out of me.
A few years ago when I first got into baking, I was bringing quite a few treats and goodies into the office as I learned what I was doing and expanded my baking repertoire. I started simple, with squares (brownies etc.) and breads (mostly banana). My coworkers were relatively happy with what I brought to the office each week, and the feedback was positive (and supportive). They encouraged me to try new things, and I really was enjoying this time in the kitchen. I had never baked before I was called to the bar. I never baked with my mom or my grandmother. Suddenly I was a new lawyer and picked up the spatula and pans for the first time? Weird, right? But you know what? This creative outlet was great for me; it really helped me deal with the daily stresses of a new law practice, a busy office, and all the other issues that come with this crazy career I chose. I was also (most unfortunately) a single girl, living in my little condo with this great kitchen; I would go home at night and find a recipe online and be determined to make whatever it was. This was also when I started reading baking blogs fairly regularly, and got a lot of inspiration from bloggers like Sugar Plum.
So keeping in mind all of the above, let me introduce you to a mouthy coworker of mine, we’ll call him “PDF” (you know who you are). This guy thought it was necessary to put me in my place, and in front of my entire workgroup announced that he thought that, despite my very best intentions: “women don’t become good cooks until they’ve had children”. Dude, are you for real?
I immediately declared a moratorium on all baked good for PDF, and told my coworkers to guard their goodies from him, because he was “cut off”. He remained in this state of punishment for quite a while.
Years later, I’ve lifted the ban on goodies for PDF but he’s still fairly vocal about what I bring in to the office, one time even spitting something (that everyone else loved, by the way) into the garbage. He does not hold back when he doesn’t like something. Very much like the brunette (who has age as his excuse), he’s a picky eater – won’t do coconut, fussy about dark chocolate, picky with his peanut butter. Sadly, I am forced to compare a thirty-something lawyer with an eleven-year-old little boy. But there it is. Total. Jack. Box. But it’s from the jackboxes that we learn how to deal with criticism, isn’t it?
Bite-sized Roasted Banana Bread brownies – a huge hit with the other coworkers- and he hated them (this is what he dramatically spit into his office garbage can like a fourteen year old girl trying her first beer):
I’ve been accused of being a drama queen, but this is a guy who wears a tshirt and scarf to the office as a fashion statement. We have a word for guys like him. I’ll let you guess what it is (starts with a “d”).
P.S. The banana bread brownies were thieved (and the recipe slightly modified) from another fave blogger of mine Picky Palate.
P.P.S. Picky Palate was also the source of my favourite brownie to date: