Baking is one of those things that I’ve always wanted to include in my “Teenage Experience.” As the saying goes, “bakers are made of sugar, spice, and everything nice,” and who wouldn’t want to do something that sounds so much like the Powerpuff girls’ intro? In this equation, I am the Chemical X, the unexpected factor that messes up the rest of the equation. I have taken the experimental part in an experiment, which luckily at least gets shown in my cooking.

For as long as I’ve been baking, something has gone wrong every time: Cookies bleeding into each other, brownies being too oil-y, muffins… exploding. No, I’m not exaggerating. During middle school, a couple of my friends had baking businesses where they would sell baked goods to family and friends– one of them was too successful and got his cinnamon rolls banned from school because they became too interruptive. In hindsight, he was really pursuing his entrepreneurial dreams and helped establish the weekly morning coffee cart, a new Montessori tradition. This was the period of time where I really wanted to be good at baking. I didn’t think I could be successful doing something like this, so I didn’t try it myself. I focused on my sports, art projects and perfecting mac n’ cheese, but never baking. 

I did find cooking, though, and took to that better than I ever could’ve imagined. Since I was a little kid, I would sit in the kitchen with my mom– who implemented the Southern influence she grew up with– being cute, observing and naturally taste testing. I got my first play kitchen when I was three, my first plastic knife set when I was five and at eight learned to make mac n’ cheese by myself. One time, my mom and I had just come home after a long day in need of food and some R&R. She was exhausted, and, with my speech impediment, I said to her, “It’s ok, Mommy. Don’t wo-wry, I can make dinn-ewr, you just wr-elax.” And you can guarantee that Mac n’ Cheese was the best she had ever tasted. 

We always make food together, which is ironic because for a large period of time, baking was my mother’s profession. Whenever we bake, in all honesty, I barely do anything. Maybe mix batter or lay out a baking sheet. But when cooking, volunteering became my new favorite thing. I loved to experiment– adding my mom and I’s favorite seasonings and spices. It felt so immersive and exciting, each time what we made tasted a little different and a little better. There was never a boring moment, taste or smell. 

Since then, I’ve taken to cooking on my own. My favorite part about cooking is that I can make whatever I want however I want– experimenting and creating. If I want a nice breakfast? Bam, scrambled eggs with fresh cilantro and lots of cheese and pepper. What about a filling lunch? Grilled cheese sandwich with marinara on the inside– save some dipping time. I wouldn’t by any means call myself a cook or call cooking a hobby. I do it when I’m hungry and alone so I don’t have to put anyone through the trauma of failed experiments. 

Some notable flops: marshmallow scrambled eggs (an interesting take on meringue, but the sugar did not mask the char taste) and miso chicken noodle soup (one that is good in theory, I just wanted to get rid of some pantry leftovers but the flavors did NOT go well. That could’ve been a user-issue though). The point is, I get to experience the joy of an experiment and trial and error. I learn every time I make something about what works and what doesn’t without, most times, the food tasting atrocious. Given more room for error, a fun process, you can see why I favor cooking.

In baking, you have so very little room for error– it’s a science, chemistry if you will. I’ve taken chemistry as a class and it… it could’ve gone better than it did. You have to follow such a strict formula to get baking right: measure the right amount of ingredients, wet ones all together separately, the dry ones mixed together separately, carefully mixed together, filtering your flour, freezing your cookie batter overnight, using the right type of sugar, soft butter, being careful to not use baking soda instead of baking powder (common mistake, I’m sure) and don’t get me started on the rules for higher elevation. It’s all very confusing and pointless to me. 

Now, don’t come for me. I know there are ways to understand all these logistics, but I am not a science gal. I am a language arts, crafty kind of person. I am led by the fun side of my brain. And while I’m all up for a challenge, I am not up for a bake off. That’s why I love the creative and expressive aspects of cooking. The most fun part of baking is getting to decorate (CONTROVERSIAL) and in essence that’s all cooking is. Decorating your taste buds. 

So, as Thomas Keller puts it, “A recipe has no Soul. You, as the cook, must bring Soul to the recipe.” I am no baker, but, thanks to my mom, I do have soul.