Baking

I like to bake. I like measuring things. I like mixing things. I like the swing of an opening oven door. I like its heat in my face, which occasionally steams my glasses. I like the way the house smells when baking. I like finding unique recipes. I like when those recipes win my workplace's cook-off contests! I like honoring the gods through my kitchen efforts.

My religious use of baking began early in my path. When I was a teenager, baking was a constructive and inconspicuous way to mark the sabbats. Baking feeds my body, mind, and spirit. I enjoyed it, and in addition to sharing it with the gods I got to share it with my mom.

Now, as a Heathen, baking takes on a slightly larger role. I still like to cook something festive and seasonal for holidays. But now working in the kitchen feeds the energy in my home.

My home. I moved out of my parent's house this past summer, and I've certainly found myself baking more because this kitchen is mine. I know what spices are in the cupboards because I purchased and placed them there. I know what gadgets I do and don't have (current gadgets include a zester, egg separator, and parchment). I know that the oven tends to run a bit hot. Exercising those cupboards, gadgets, and oven builds frith and pleases the house wights. In maintaining my hearth, I honor the thought, skill, and care of my ancestors. (Referring to "cultural ancestors" here, not necessarily literal ones.)

Now which ancestor do I have to honor to ensure my cheesecake doesn't crack? :)