I baked my first dessert more than 26 years ago. This event greatly influenced my life.
Imagine 1993. The country is experiencing the consequences of perestroika. I am 7 years old and I went to first grade. At the end of September, the first parent meeting was to take place at the school. I was very worried about this.
The thing is that my senior courtyard friends told me that you shouldn't expect anything good from the parent meeting. I remembered this and decided that by all means it was necessary to somehow butter up my parents, so that I would not fly in.
Now I can't even remember if I had any faults at school. But apparently, something worried me. I decided that I would bake a cake as a sweet pill for my parents.
I had a vague concept of cake, and I decided that charlotte could quite be it.
By my 7 years old, I was pretty independent. I often helped my mother in the kitchen and watched her cook. I remembered the charlotte recipe by heart. I checked the ingredients and started cooking.
First I cut the apples, just cut them, I didn't even peel them from the peel and core. Then he beat eggs with sugar with a mixer, added flour, mixed. Then I had to suffer with the oven.
Our oven was gas and very old. To light it, I had to break the parental prohibition to take matches. I was lucky, I was able to light the gas from the very first match.
Mix the dough with apples, pour into a mold and put in the oven to bake. And this is where the fun begins.
I decided not to wait for the charlotte to be baked and went to play with the brothers. A few minutes later, I safely forgot about the charlotte in the oven.
When my parents returned home, I was so carried away by the game that I did not care at all that the acrid smell of a burnt charlotte was already coming from the kitchen. But this really excited my mother.
She rushed to the kitchen and quickly discovered the source of the problem. Charlotte by that time was already covered with a dark crust and began to smoke. But good, everything worked out.
I was lucky that my mother did not scold me. And even on the contrary, in the future she began to involve me even more actively in cooking. She told me the rules for using the oven and taught me how to set the timer.
By the way, I was able to taste my first dessert. Mom carefully cut off all the burnt edges of the charlotte and served what was left of her for tea.
Now that I have a child, I understand how wisely my mother acted. She did not scold me for my initiative and forbid me to touch the oven, but on the contrary began to encourage and develop my interest in cooking.
Mom, I know that you are reading my blog, thank you very much!
Did you have similar stories as a child?