Carefully dip a doughnut into the glaze, and immediately place the doughnut onto one of the garnish dishes glaze side down, pressing gently - then return doughnut to the cooling rack to rest while the glaze sets. Remove from heat, continuing to stir until all the chocolate has melted and the chocolate is smooth and glossy. Stir continuously with a rubber spatula until almost completely melted. Place the chocolate chips, butter, corn syrup and vanilla in a stainless steel or glass bowl and place over the simmering pot, making sure that the bottom of the bowl doesn’t touch the water. To make the glaze, place a small saucepan with about 2 inches of water on high heat and bring to a boil, then reduce heat to keep water at a good simmer. It’s no surprise that all of us girls grew up to enjoy the process of creating baked treats to share with friends and family. As my experience and confidence grew, I supervised my younger sisters as they tackled their baking firsts from my well-loved cookbook. How many times did we mistakenly use salt for sugar, sugar for salt, or forget the sugar altogether? I can’t recall. A big rubber band now holds the cover in place while it sits prominently among my other, less-used cookbooks, reminding me of summer days spent in the kitchen with my best friend as we picked out recipes to tackle that day. Its tattered pages smudged with butter and chocolate tell their own story of love and use. I was 9 years old when I was gifted Betty Crocker’s New Boys and Girls Cookbook for Christmas in 1975. I eventually outgrew my little Easy-Bake oven, ready to tackle more complex baking projects. I can only imagine now how horrible those little cakes must have been, and yet Mom and Dad would praise my creations as they happily tasted them every time. I remember licking the excess frosting from my fingers after preparing it in anticipation of frosting my cooled cakes. I remember the joy of ripping open those tiny foil packets, mixing my batter, pouring it into the cake pans that made cakes no bigger than an average-size pancake. The music made as the stainless steel measuring cups that live together on a big metal ring hit each other as I move from one size to the next, followed by the clang, clang, clang as they settle on the countertop when they are no longer needed - a familiar tune I’ve heard since my youth.Ī direct connection to my childhood, my love of baking started with my first little red Easy-Bake oven, like I suppose it did for many girls of my generation. I take joy in watching the puffs of white dance in the air with each sift and whisk of dry ingredients, then slowly drifting down onto the countertops, dusting everything in a fine powder. The act of measuring flour, sugar, cocoa is my form of meditation.
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