My child bride has turned into a baking fanatic. It’s almost nonstop now at the Hacienda, and we trip over one another in the kitchen as I try, for instance, to make a nice salad for supper. Or a lunch of minestrone.
You would not believe the sticky pans and dishes this endeavor generates, and I have become the default dishwasher.
She makes a mountain of various pastries that she sells out of a huge sombrero-shaped basket on the downtown plaza once a week, but she also makes this cake you see above for her sister’s coffee shop.
I am happy she found this hobby. It generates a good bit of cash and, more importantly, it keeps her from jumping out of her skin.
She is not a low-key person. She’s like a Harley-Davidson with the throttle stuck wide open while I, on the other hand, am an idling Vespa.