I’ve never been much of a baker. Outside of culinary school, I’ve done very little. Aside from a handful of simple sweets like cookies, brownies, and a handful of others, the only thing I’ve ever spent time on is focaccia. And even that is uncommon.

Cakes, pastries, and the like are so finicky. They’re scientific, calculated. Everything has to be carefully measured and weighed. Temperatures have to be just right, and no two ovens are ever the same.

Even when things are done perfectly, things can fall apart.

I prefer cooking because it’s a little more wild west. There are few rules to follow, you can freestyle nearly everything. It’s always felt so much more creative.

But that’s not really true.

Once you have the base nailed down — let’s use my basic focaccia dough as an example — you can treat it just like any other ingredient. Now, you can get as creative as you want with fillings and flavours.

This is something I’ve always understood, but the learning process of getting that base ingredient has been a step I’ve ignored.

And recently, I’ve had the strange urge to dip my toes a little deeper into those waters.

Learning two or three simple pastry recipes would be a fun winter project (as if I need another…). From there, I can treat them like my focaccia and start getting creative.

Who knows where that could lead?

Or maybe, just maybe, I simply have the innate inability to relax — and can’t help but fill my free time with more work.