KC10 | Taste of Home Community  
(Used on TasteofHome.com only)
Screen Name:
KC10
Member Since:
August 9, 2002
Last Login:
June 4, 2013
About Me
No profile added.
My Greatest Cooking TriumphWow! Just one? There have been so many successes! But perhaps my greatest success was mastering the "art of bread making" as taught to me by my father who was a baker by profession! I always struggled with bread. It was too dry, too doughy, not high enough, too many big air bubbles! I think homemade yeast bread is definitely like tasting a bit of heaven! The smell of fresh baked bread alone makes my mouth water. When my dad finally retired from the bakery, he started adapting his HUGE recipes to something much more manageable for just him and mom. One day I insisted he teach me HOW to make bread so I could finally make something that resembled HIS! It was like the proverbial light bulb going off when it finally clicked. "It's how it feels!" he kept telling me. And he was right!!! :O)
My Biggest Kitchen DisasterThe one that comes to mind actually happened when I was 12 or 13 and at Girl Scout day camp. Every day we were given a wish list of available items for cooking, crafts, whatever we would be working on the next day. We were to mark what we needed and the next day those items would be delivered to our campsite! Well, we wanted to make pronto pups for lunch one day and so ordered flour and who knows what else. When we started to make our batter for the hotdogs, it just didn't look right or feel right. It was kind of a icky gray color, and sticky and just a total mess, but we struggled. Meanwhile, in the next campsite, the 7th graders were having trouble getting their plaster of Paris to set up for a project they were working on! Yup!! You guessed it!! Both of those items came to us in brown paper bags with no labels. We got the plaster of Paris and they got our flour! That story made the Girl Scout magazine that year!! Those were the worst pronto pups I ever had!! LOL
My Food For ThoughtFor the PAST is the PAST and will never return; the FUTURE we know not; and only the PRESENT can be called our own. author unknown