I finally got around to baking the BakedIn Winter Spice Cake. Its a test of biscuitery and cakery. Gingerbread houses, trees and stars and a cinnamon flavoured cake and icing.
It was, as you might expect, quite time consuming. Need to make the dough for the biscuits, then whilst that’s chilling in the fridge, make the cake batter. Then when the cakes are baking its time to roll out the dough and cut out the shapes. Then bake them whilst the cakes are cooling. Then make the icing while the biscuits cool. A little bit fiddly in parts but otherwise quite satisfying to put it all together.
The smell of the cinnamon and the gingerbread is just like its Christmas cooking all over again. Christmas food is just about the best.
Food smells, like any other smell, has the ability to transport us to the past, to experiences and periods of our lives.
There’s always been a smell, that I can’t really describe, that always reminds me of my grandads kitchen and the massive panty/cupboard where he kept all the crockery and some tins (peaches, pears and spam generally) and packets of food. I can’t really remember a particular smell from my nanna’s, but I do remember the food. She’d get enough in for tea that “whatever you don’t eat now you’ll have to take home with you”.
I wonder what olfactory memories our daughter will have of our house. There’s certainly been a lot of baking. I know she came in from her evening job when she was doing her A levels, and always said that whatever was cooking for dinner smelled lovely. Usually something like chilli or spaghetti bolognese.
What smell memories do you have?
Bells, Bakes & Bettering Myself 