Let’s start from the beginning….
Once upon a time there was a jealous little girl who wanted her best friends “Easy Bake Oven”, very, very, much. It was horridly colored, baked with only a mini watt light bulb, but oh, the pretty little pink cakes that came out of it, so sweet, and so unlike what we ate at my house. The beautiful little desserts were just like my friend, with her perfectly straight, long blond hair, and twinkly blue eyes, dressed to the nines every day with froofy pastel dresses, everything I had not.
My mother didn’t approve of such things, we ate what she ate, a good Japanese Macrobiotic diet, a carefully balanced regimen of brown rice and veggies, and not the tasty ones. When we ate bread, if at all, it looked like a stone and weighed as much as one. She didn’t inherit my grandmothers perfect touch with pastries, my constant search for patisserie perfection comes from that side of my family. A good friend once said that I throw away more baked goods than I serve, which is not too much of a stretch, I love to experiment, but I am my own worst critic.
As a young child the yearning for sweets drove me constantly. One Halloween, my mother decided that we should give away Nori ( seaweed) wrapped rice balls, (along with walnuts in the shell), to the neighboring kids that came looking for candy. This sealed my fate, I was forever know as “that girl” with the weird parents, ridiculed by school children forever more. Eating lunch with chopsticks in grammer school didn’t help my image either, it’s so funny that now I look forward to participating in my friend Naoko Moller’s (http://oneplate-zen.blogspot.com/) Japanese cooking classes which frequently use the same ingredients I hated so much as a child.
to be continued….