Like most everyone else, we like to pretend our lives are prettier, better, more exciting, much more fulfilled, and generally a heck of a lot nicer than they are. We do have nice little lives, but we have plenty of downs to go with the ups. We just don’t mention those. Michigan Lisa preens herself on her baking and inundates her feed with attractive (she hopes) photos of beautiful bakes. Sometimes she scrolls back and stares at them again just to sigh over them.
Except, you know what? Tons of stuff she bakes looks like absolute crap. Even when it does come out, the kitchen looks like a tornado hit, so why, why does she feel compelled to pretend that baking is just one little perfect square of perfection sitting on her one attractive plate with her best tablecloth underneath? Why are there all these web pages where the cook coyly claims to be messy and all this means is an plate of scrumptious food with one artfully arranged clump of quinoa on the edge of a plate in a photo worthy of a Williams and Sonoma photo shoot?Messy? It isn’t messy until you can’t find the salt because it is buried in a mound of empty butter wrappers, bags of flour and tea towels. Messy is when the egg whites have fallen to the floor from their teetering position on the counter and the house rings with a shriek of , “Oh bugger that.” So let me slip into first person and go for full disclosure. This is what my baking looks like. It ain’t always pretty. Although I do think it has a certain charm all of its own. And the enchanting smell of burning milk.
Recently Florida Lisa was asked to describe her dream kitchen. She had two words: room service. Instead of culinary delights she prefers to inundate facebook and twitter with her wry wit and charming turn of phrase. This is much harder than it looks and she spends lots of time editing and re-editing posts that never seem to go viral…
…yet. The Lisas may have missed the twerking craze and our selfies are mercifully few, but one day our social media ship will come in. Likely we’ll be at the airport waiting to catch a train, but no matter. It’s all in good, messy fun.