My bright ideas for baking in a new country have not been going well. The other day, for example, I baked banana bread. It was the same recipe I always use at home--same proportions, same ingredients, same everything. And yet, it came out of the oven a strange, sodden lump, which in no way resembled (in looks or taste) any banana bread I have ever made. I ate one piece, and didn't want to eat any more. Thankfully, it's gone to a better place (hint: a German waste facility), but I was so ashamed of myself for it. Really. This may sound a bit self-important, but I have always prided myself on being a decent baker. I bake things, and they usually get completely eaten up by everyone I know. And suddenly, I move to a new place with a different kitchen and flour that is quite possibly milled differently, and POW--everything I bake is a freak version of its former, perfectly delicious self.
Honestly, I'm afraid to bake here. I'm cursed. I'm the Auslander, and I cannot be privy to the secrets of a German kitchen. Only the Germans know how to coax their high-powered ovens and strangely named baking powder into doing their jobs correctly. Perhaps my German isn't good enough yet. Or maybe, I just have to swear a little at the ingredients, auf Deutsch, and the little bastards will cooperate. All I know is that I feel like something's missing without my baking ability. I feel like something has been stolen from me.
I hope I can get it back.
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