Flavors & Tales - A Baking Story

Gathering & Measuring, Mixing & Whisking,

In a bowl, ingredients gather round,

Each one unique - their flavors abound.

Flour & Eggs, Sugar & Spice,

A dash of salt, mixing together,

Creating sweet perfection.

With a spoon or a whisk, the dance begins,

Blending together, creating kin,

Each ingredient lends its own flair,

Creating a masterpiece beyond compare.

Flour falls like fresh snow,

Hands work magic in the dough,

Kneading it with care,

Watching the butter melt,

Binding the ingredients together.

Rolling out the dough,

Cutting the shapes,

Popping it into the oven,

Vanilla scent fills the room,

Whispering a sweet embrace.

So mix them gently, with love and care,

For in this act, magic is there.

In the melding of flavors, a story is told,

In the mixing of ingredients, a tale unfolds.

In the bright early morning, I stand in the middle of the kitchen bathed in a golden glow from the rising sun. Deciding that the kitchen was illuminated enough, I began making breakfast.

Sitting by the window, I enjoy the view and the food. Bite by bite, my meal disappears. Breakfast is done, but I am craving cookies now. I decide, why not make them myself since I have time to spare.

Gathering the ingredients, I lay them on the countertop, measuring the amounts, and setting everything back in its place. Messy workstations are a major turn off, so I keep them clean.

Measuring and scooping the ingredients into a bowl, I start mixing with a whisk in hand.

Adding the dry ingredients to the wet ones, I put my muscles to work - kneading the dough to perfection.

Wrapping it in plastic film, I put it in the fridge to set. After 15 minutes, I take out the dough. Removing the plastic film, I start slicing the dough bar into cookies.

With all the cookies cut, I lay them on a baking tray lined with parchment paper and pop it into the oven.

Soon, a tantalizing aroma fills the air, making my mouth water. A 'Ding' echoes through the room as I grab the mittens and put them on.

Taking out the tray, I place it on the countertop to let it cool. Transferring them to a bowl, I leave the kitchen neat and clean.

Heading to the backyard garden, I sit down witnessing the changing of the seasons. Spring is around the corner.

Tiny buds are hanging off the branches, ready to blossom and enchant the world with their vibrancy. To share with the world the fruits of hard work and consistency.

Is it spring at your end?