Flour for substance. Eggs to bind. Butter for body. Sugar for sweetness. Something to make it rise. Used in different ways, so few ingredients can become transformed to endless end products that I can’t stop experimenting with. A lavender and honey sweet roll for relaxation. A rosemary ciabatta for mental clarity. A chocolate and rose lava cake to share with a lover.
Baking is a matter of chemistry, really.
Or rather, something else–something ancient.
Thank you for believing in it with me.
I started baking when I was a kid, making cakes for my family’s holiday dinners and sometimes just for fun. I loved taking the individual parts and using them to create something completely new. Like the magic of the fantasy books that took up a lot of the rest of my time. When I was 11, after a particularly frustrating birthday involving a caramel empanada cookie, I hung up my whisk for over a decade.
While I was in college, I found myself at the oven again, making cupcakes for my roommates and cakes for their birthdays. After graduation, I came back to my hometown of Chicago. Over the course of four years, I worked in theatre production, teaching artistry, storytelling, and organizational consultation, all with organizations whose work I respected and valued deeply. Through that work, I eventually found myself surrounded by a community that has shaped the man I’d become while reacquainting myself with the city that raised me.
Then, at the beginning 2016, the world began to turn upside down, and I felt like I was going with it. I needed something that was still missing – something grounding and simple. Something that had lived in my hands since they were much smaller. Something I knew by instinct.