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I confess - I just can't bake a cake

Claire Cantor feels the pressure as Yomtov approaches

September 19, 2017 10:26
Oh, to have the skill of Mrs Patmore
1 min read

It’s Yomtov again and the dinner wars have begun. Oh, the pressure! To have no less than 16 people around the table, to devise a menu that is traditional and contemporary at the same time without simply adding quinoa or pomegranate seeds, and, above all, to produce a honey cake worthy of a Bake Off champion.

I lack an essential quality of the authentic Jewish mother. I cannot bake. Rosh Hashanah sends me into a spiral of insecurity and self-doubt.

Everyone is sifting and stewing, spreading and rolling, producing masterful strudels, kuchens and bundts. Can I slink off to Daniel’s for a gateau without guilt? Can I secretly add an egg and some milk to a mixture from a box and hope that the judges, I mean guests, will be satisfied? Can I move on from Nigella’s fairy cakes and Evelyn’s one bowl wonders?

I marvel at people who bake for pleasure, who “substitute” without fear of flop, adding a bit of this or that, like witches concocting a magic potion. I wonder if there is a deeper meaning to my floury phobia. Why do I fear all that weighing and measuring, why do I lack scientific accuracy? I call a psychologist friend to discuss this, she says “Can I call you back? I’m just baking some flapjacks.” The words “just” and “baking” effortlessly are thrown together in the same sentence, with no regard for the disadvantaged.

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