Some of my fondest memories as a kid are of "helping" my Mom and Grandma Britton (two pretty amazing cooks and bakers). If I had pictures here of my childhood (thanks Dad for letting me store all of my stuff for the last 5 years in your basement!), I would be able to dig out quite a few of me with an apron on, flour on my cheeks, spatula in hand-starting at about age 3 or 4.
Lately I've been feeling the urge to bake and it's become a Sunday morning ritual for Calum and I. While Mark sleeps in, Calum has his breakfast and I bake. Usually I bake one of my Grandma Britton's recipes and usually I bake something that's not so healthy (I am pregnant after all!).
Mother's Day here in the UK was celebrated last Sunday and on this occasion I decided to remember my Grandma and Mom by baking my Grandma's sour cream coffee cake. Calum decided to help.
Love my little baker, here's to hoping he continues because a) I'm going to need a sous chef and assistant soon and Mark has failed miserably and b) I strongly believe men should know how to cook and am going to try my best to instill this in my son so someday he will make a great husband for more reasons than one.
Can you tell I'm kind of bitter that my husband doesn't help in the kitchen ;)?