Managed to bake my best gingerbread until now, according to my dad. Gave it to the family, it was gone in days. That’s the saddest part of baking. How quickly you run out of your own produce.
Managed to barely make a decent puff pastry (observe the “barely” and the “decent”) and forgot to add the rosemary in the filling.
Made a dried fruit sponge that looked and tasted too gooey. I’m never doing that recipe again.
I’m planning on advancing to turkey for main Christmas dish. Also quiche lorraine and Romanian sweet bread. I’m getting old cook books from my family, going so far as a 1981 edition. So yeah, it’s that time of year when it gets serious. Everyone expects you to come up with something really flashy, not just some ugly looking pastry.
And that’s the thing with cooking: you see it before you taste it. Just like in life, you know?