a lesson in baking!
Oct. 3rd, 2015 10:23 amIt's difficult to not want to pack and somehow drag my entire kitchen over to Thomas's. I honestly haven't yet acquired much since I got here. Derek and Helen have been kind enough to let me use the commissary every now and again when I really get into a mood so it's not like I even have that much to bring over.
Still, it takes me nearly an hour to whittle down a list of only the absolute necessities and then another hour to cross off what I'm reasonably sure Thomas's kitchen already has. Meaning, what the city probably provided him with the second he showed up here, like the pots and pans and little plastic measuring cups I'd found lining my kitchen drawers my first day here.
In the end, I have about four bags of ingredients in my haul - butter, sugar, flour, baking soda and powder, a dozen eggs. Apples, berries, pears, and some rhubarb. I've tossed in some chocolate chips and cinnamon chips and peanut butter chips too, as well as cinnamon and nutmeg and about half a dozen of my other favorite spices, most of which we probably won't even use today. I keep trying to tell myself to start off simple, but I want to be prepared just in case Thomas is a quick learner and wants to try more than a simple chocolate chip cookie recipe.
By the time I get to Thomas's apartment building, I've never been happier to see an elevator in my life. Without daily practices and work-outs, I've let myself get lazy here; I should probably see about taking Thomas up on his offer of morning runs. Those have to be better than checking practice at least, right?
The elevator ride is long enough that I've mostly caught my breath by the time I'm knocking on Thomas's door and, setting the bags down for a second, I wipe sweat and a layer of drizzled rain off my forehead as I wait.
Still, it takes me nearly an hour to whittle down a list of only the absolute necessities and then another hour to cross off what I'm reasonably sure Thomas's kitchen already has. Meaning, what the city probably provided him with the second he showed up here, like the pots and pans and little plastic measuring cups I'd found lining my kitchen drawers my first day here.
In the end, I have about four bags of ingredients in my haul - butter, sugar, flour, baking soda and powder, a dozen eggs. Apples, berries, pears, and some rhubarb. I've tossed in some chocolate chips and cinnamon chips and peanut butter chips too, as well as cinnamon and nutmeg and about half a dozen of my other favorite spices, most of which we probably won't even use today. I keep trying to tell myself to start off simple, but I want to be prepared just in case Thomas is a quick learner and wants to try more than a simple chocolate chip cookie recipe.
By the time I get to Thomas's apartment building, I've never been happier to see an elevator in my life. Without daily practices and work-outs, I've let myself get lazy here; I should probably see about taking Thomas up on his offer of morning runs. Those have to be better than checking practice at least, right?
The elevator ride is long enough that I've mostly caught my breath by the time I'm knocking on Thomas's door and, setting the bags down for a second, I wipe sweat and a layer of drizzled rain off my forehead as I wait.
