Aw, Honey, You Baked!

I can't cook. I will never be good at cooking. I'm okay with this. It is, as much as I hate to admit it, something I get from my mom. C'mon - I grew up in a house where, for many years, our main sustenance came from one of our two freezers (yes, two freezers), was popped in the microwave and was ready in less than five minutes. Occasionally she'd branch out and concoct some sort of "casserole," which is just a more pleasant way of saying "whatever I feel like throwing in this pretty glass dish and baking at 350 for 30 mins." It's really no wonder I am how I am. Unfortunately, my dad, who is a phenomenal cook, did not really start to show off his talents until I was much older. Thus, whenever I am left to fend for myself, my preferred choices are pasta or takeout. I guess it's a good thing I like pasta and takeout.

I did, however, grow up baking. My grandmother is an amazing baker and began teaching me how at a very young age. Granted, because I was so young, I did not retain most of what she tried to instill, but I do remember that I enjoyed myself. And even now, I still enjoy baking. And so, I am going to attempt to bake more. I'm not sure my kitchen or it's current contents are going to make this easy on me, but I'm not easily deterred.

For my first trick, I mean baking attempt, I will be making an almond pear cream cheese torte.

Wish me luck!