I was just thinking that one of the reasons that I like cooking so much is that I am a very careless person. I rarely pay much attention to the world outside me (a horrible trait for a mother), and I’m the opposite of meticulous. That means that I often skim through a recipe, missing ingredients and steps. Indeed, I seldom look at the directions for a recipe before I start cooking (I guess this also means I’m pretty confident in my ability to do anything the recipe would call for). And often I just glance at the ingredients, forgetting to buy one or two. Sometimes I send my husband to buy them (poor buy), others I just improvise or do without.
But cooking is forgiving, often very forgiving. Often times a missing ingredient will not make a huge difference, same thing for a missed step. Forgotten spices can be added later, salt fixes a thousand mistakes.
Baking is not so forgiving, some people insist that it calls for exactitude and sometimes that’s true. But a few weeks ago I made a cheesecake that called for five packages of cream cheese and I forgot one. It was just as good. Still, I enjoy cooking much more than baking.
Carelessness
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