Baking With Kids- Part 1

Baking with kids is one of those activities that sounds delightful in theory. I imagine a cosy kitchen, with the smell of chocolate chips wafting through the air, my little ones grinning as they proudly stir the batter.

The reality however, is far removed from this!

I have never made a carrot cake before and thought what better time to do this than on a Sunday when the boy child was at football with his mum, and I was left at home with the girl child.

Mentioning baking in our house seems to conjure up images of the kids becoming the next great pastry chef or, at the very least, a culinary adventure worthy of Willy Wonka’s finest achievements. Therefore said girl child was soon hopping up and down excitedly and using every available surface in the kitchen to perform circus tricks whilst singing an improv “baking song”.

First, we need to wash our hands. Actually first I have to catch the child who has suddenly become as slippery as a weasel that’s fighting for it’s life and wrestle her to the sink to make sure her hands are actually clean.

We begin measuring out the ingredients. I put the bowl on the scales and give her the bag of sugar. “Just pour it in until that number reaches 200” I say as I begin to grate the carrots. The dog is now circling us like a hungry shark, convinced (accurately) that morsels will soon start raining down from the heavens.

Out of the corner of my eye I see the entire bag of sugar get upended over the bowl, the work surface and the dog, who opens her mouth to embrace to impending diabetes. I drop the carrot, dust off the dog and salvage enough sugar for the recipe.

Next, the flour. They say that the definition of insanity is repeating the same thing over and over and expecting different results. The flour gets upended. I dust the dog off again who now looks like she has the white hand of Saruman on her face and wipe down the kitchen again.

Eventually we get all the ingredients together and the mixing begins. I show her how to “fold” the ingredients together gently and then look on with pride as she hacks away with the spatula like a crazed lumberjack. Pieces of grated carrot fly out of the flour-cloud until suddenly, the cake batter is done. The taste test is completed by the child and the thumbs-up is given.

We pour the batter in the cake tin and slide it into the oven. “Want to help me clean up?” I ask, with a hopeful smile on my face but she’s already gone. Spongebob has called and she has answered.

I spend the next thirty five minutes picking grated carrot out of the dog, washing up and wiping down. I have so much sugar and flour on me if you bunged me in the oven I’d make a pretty decent cake myself!