I have to prepare 3 cakes over these few days, coz it's the wife's birthday. One for tonight, for our cell group crowd, (that was a chilled orange cheese cake), one for a tea party tomorrow, (durian poppy seed cake) and one for dinner tomorrow night, (a tiramisu gateaux). I thus had an inkling of what it would feel like were I doing this for a living. I have thus far found baking quite therapeutic, but I get really irritated when things are not where they should be.
Like I spent a good 10 minutes looking for gelatine yesterday. In my mind, I am sure I had a whole pack of it lying somewhere. And, out of initiative (which makes it worse, coz you can't scold), the maid went and put all the various types of sugars into MINERAL WATER BOTTLES. Labelled Gula, Gula Halus, and Brow Sugar. Which takes ages to pour out. (wonder how long it took to pour INTO the bottles) Which REALLY irritated me even further. And those wretched measuring spoons. Anyway, all this accumulated annoyance resulted in what was definitely NOT a therapeutic session.
I guess if I were to do it as a job, everything would be in place, and the kitchen would be airconditioned, and I'd have kitchen hands to do the menial jobs, such as grating, and squeezing, and chopping..... currently relegated to the wife, when she is around.
The sacrifices a husband makes for his wife.....