Layers

Ogres are like onions...

All of us are like ogres too. No, we don't stink. Well, not all of us... not all the time.

But we are like ogres, as in, we have layers. Like onions. Or cakes, because not everybody likes onions.

It feels like every time I acquire a new habit (or hobby, why not) I am growing another new layer. A new facet to show to the world. The ridiculous patient person. The writer (if inspiration is forthcoming). The idiot (because other people are nice enough to think for me). The fiber artist (tatter, for all you jargon enthusiasts). The grammar nazi (or linguist, for all you kind people who use proper grammar). The cook.

The cook? Yes, the cook. Or at least the sous-chef. Ok, maybe just the kitchen help... Aspiring patissier?

One may recall (if one has the memory of an elephant) one of my older (now defunct) blogs regarding cooking. I was learning to cook, but since my budget was so forbidding, I was also very limited in my repertoire. So the blog got scrapped, along with my budding cooking enthusiasm. Also, I have a picky husband.

Lately though, I have been starting to make pastry. Tiny nutmeg croissants (the kind that don't rise), biscuits (crunch!), cheese sticks (semi-fluffy), now pâte feuilletée.

It is currently cooling in the fridge and the butter is warming on the counter. I am still learning, but I am ambitious and I hope that is enough to keep me going. That and hoping to make at least a bit of an "oooh" at my upcoming birthday when I show up with treats made at home. Yum.

And right there, I have a hesitation. Small, but very annoying. What if they turn their noses up at it? I know they are nice people, but for a bunch who eats out at restaurants almost every lunch, am I a bit too rudimentary? Am I too wet behind the ears? Did I put too much water in the pâte feuilletée?

I guess I just need to gather my guts and do it. For my birthday, I mean. As for the rest of my cooking and baking occasions, I know I have two huge fans (me and my doggie), a shy fan (our roommate, who thinks it is bad manners to gobble up the whole batch) and a never satisfied customer (my husband, but he just won't eat sweets these days).

Sometimes I wonder if hiding all those layers is good for me or not. I did get an almost compliment for my little turtle earrings, so, why not give it a go? After all, I have a pretty tough (and stinky, if I do say so myself) outer layer: not caring too much what everyone else things about me or what I do.