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when I was small to small to see over the tabletop, my aunt taught  me to make God's Food she gave me lessons in baking, in alchemy I stood on stool, so I could mix the ginger powder, flour and eggs in the big old green mixing bowl with a big wooden spoon, half as tall as me I wore an apron and had one of my poppa's hanky's tied over my hair... My Auntie Barb, poured over my dry mix hot melted butter,golden syrup and brown sugar, with careful hands and then briskly mixed it through, a glorious batter was made. together my hands covered by hers, soft comfort and calluses would pour the batter into old rectangle loaf tins, paper and greased, then into an oven to bake and spread the scent of  ginger, cinnamon and caramel, throughout the old weatherboard house.... I would happily lick the spoon and scrape every last bit of gooey batter from the old palmolive green mixing bowl as we waited for the baking alchemy to occur Roughly forty minutes later, the oven door would be opened and loaf of gingered goodness would appear, the kettle would be placed on the hob to boil, tea in the *** cups, plates and cutlery on the table sugar,milk and butter too Then her voice, would call gingerbread is up, and all would come, interrupting footaball, a good book, an afternoon nap, or the tv program nothing stopped one coming for gingerbread The loaf would be sliced still warm and thick almost overwhelming all that warm ginger so very exotic, then it would be lathered with butter, that would melt almost on contact..... and that was a such a feast There was magic in that kitchen even though I make ginger bread the same way, something is missing perhaps the warmth of the old oven or some little pinch of salt or nutmeg or perhaps the ginger has changed Or it might be just nostalgia.... for simpler times..when my biggest responsibility was mixing ginger bread batter
0
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 5:45 AM UTC
baking gingerbread alchemy
when I was small to small to see over the tabletop, my aunt taught  me to make God's Food she gave me lessons in baking, in alchemy I stood on stool, so I could mix the ginger powder, flour and eggs in the big old green mixing bowl with a big wooden spoon, half as tall as me I wore an apron and had one of my poppa's hanky's tied over my hair... My Auntie Barb, poured over my dry mix hot melted butter,golden syrup and brown sugar, with careful hands and then briskly mixed it through, a glorious batter was made. together my hands covered by hers, soft comfort and calluses would pour the batter into old rectangle loaf tins, paper and greased, then into an oven to bake and spread the scent of  ginger, cinnamon and caramel, throughout the old weatherboard house.... I would happily lick the spoon and scrape every last bit of gooey batter from the old palmolive green mixing bowl as we waited for the baking alchemy to occur Roughly forty minutes later, the oven door would be opened and loaf of gingered goodness would appear, the kettle would be placed on the hob to boil, tea in the *** cups, plates and cutlery on the table sugar,milk and butter too Then her voice, would call gingerbread is up, and all would come, interrupting footaball, a good book, an afternoon nap, or the tv program nothing stopped one coming for gingerbread The loaf would be sliced still warm and thick almost overwhelming all that warm ginger so very exotic, then it would be lathered with butter, that would melt almost on contact..... and that was a such a feast There was magic in that kitchen even though I make ginger bread the same way, something is missing perhaps the warmth of the old oven or some little pinch of salt or nutmeg or perhaps the ginger has changed Or it might be just nostalgia.... for simpler times..when my biggest responsibility was mixing ginger bread batter
betterdays
Written by
F/Australian
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 5:45 AM UTC
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