Cooking VS. Baking – When cooking, one can throw in a pinch of this, a dash of that and usually come up with a dish that is edible. When baking, by altering the amount of flour, fat, or a leavening agent one can create; bread, cake, pie, or cookies. They all use the same ingredients, but the amount one uses, the different techniques one uses, creates baked goods that are rather distinct. I’m not trying to over simplify the art of cooking or baking, I’m merely trying to point out that there are recipes to follow, for most everything in life. Some have a little leeway and others, do not.
I make cheesecake. Back in the day, BC (Before Children), I turned down an opportunity to sell it through a catalog. That was before the internet existed and I hadn’t a clue as to how I would take on such a challenge. Besides, that wasn’t the plan, the recipe I had created for myself didn’t involve being a career woman. The recipe was as follows: Marry at age 25, have my first child at 26 and my second at 28. Be an at-home mom, president of the PTA and live happily ever after. Well, I did marry and have children on the time line I had created for myself, I even managed to stay home for the first 10 years of my eldest’s life, but like an unnurtured cheesecake, the plan cracked and deflated leaving an unsightly pit at its core.
I have several mottos I like to live by, my favorite being “Do unto others as you would have them to do unto you.” It’s simple folks, but sometimes not easily followed. If I were ever to sell Groovy Gail’s Cheesecake, my youngest helped me coin my second favorite motto, “The Secret Ingredient is Simplicity.” My cheesecake recipe is coveted by many, but I will never share it with anyone, other than my children. It’s a very simple recipe, but it takes time and there are rules to follow. Don’t follow the rules, and you get something that is edible, but not groovy, and it will make your feelings sad.
I’ve made my cheesecake hundreds of times, but I usually refer to my recipe, just to make certain I haven’t forgotten anything. I must admit, there have been times that I did forget an ingredient and yes, it made my feelings sad. My youngest has tried to not follow the rules of making Groovy Gail’s Cheesecake, always in a rush, that one. It’s not a race, it requires patience and nurturing, just like raising a child or tending a garden. Needless to say, that rushed attempt was a failure, but when he has followed my recipe, perfection, he can be taught.
This holiday season, I made chocolate truffles, something I haven’t done in over 25 years. One does not simply make truffles and distribute them without thought. I will only use a fine chocolate and presentation is everything. Another motto I live by is “Life is in the details.” I dug out my recipe, gathered the ingredients, ordered gift boxes, and purchased matching tissue paper and paper cups. I even made an index card to include in the box describing the different types of truffles. No, I did not make one batch of one type, I made 6 batches of 6 different types of truffles, each with its own distinct garnish…details.
It took time and patience to order and purchase the necessary components. I wrote up a schedule to make the truffles, each batch takes approximately 4 hours to create. I kept referring to the recipe to make certain I was following it, batch after batch. I dared to experiment with dark vs. milk chocolate and the amount of liqueur to create a mouthful of delight, but I stayed true to the recipe. I am a rule follower and the rules of working with chocolate are rather strict, so I stuck to the recipe, or so I thought.
I believe I have a learning disability; I tend to flip numbers. It’s something I have learned to live with and overcome, and since I had made the recipe so many times with relative success, I really thought I was following it. One night, after a long day at work, I began to make another batch and while reading the recipe, to my horror, I realized that I had not been using the correct amount of unsalted butter. The recipe read: 2 Tablespoons (1/4 stick of butter), but that is not what I had read. I read, 4 Tablespoons of butter. I broke down into tears, I covered my face with my hands and while shaking my head, I began to mentally tear myself to shreds. How could I be so stupid? How did I read it over and over again, incorrectly? What’s wrong with me? How have I even managed to even live this long being so stupid?
After a moment, I composed myself and thought, what I had made had not been perfection, but they were edible. This error was probably why the first batch took so long to harden to a workable consistency, but didn’t affect the issues I had with the dark chocolate, that was still too tight. I began to analyze what steps I had taken and what I could do to improve my situation. There was no going back and fixing what I had done, so moving forward, I would need to be more mindful. I need to follow the recipe, or do I?
So often in my life, I have tried to follow the recipe. I tried to be a good kid and not make my mother cry like my siblings did, but I was horrible too, just in different ways. I tried to create the perfect marriage and household, I tried to be the perfect wife, but he left me for drugs and another woman. I tried to be a good single mom, doing all that I could to compensate for the lack of a father figure in the lives of my children, but they are scarred just the same. I have tried to be a good retail manager, following the recipe for success. It worked for a time, I’ve even been referred to as the golden goose for my previous successes, but now, it is no longer true.
Grief has been the reoccurring theme in my life. As you may know, another one of my mottos is “There has to be a theme.”, but this is not one I relish. I remember kneeling in the center of the living room floor, folding my mother’s clothes and realizing that she would never wear them again. I felt like I was trapped on a tiny island, stuck in the middle of a vast ocean. I was trapped, my mother was dying and there was nothing I could do to stop it. No manner of bartering or praying would stop her from dying. The same bartering and praying occurred when my life blew up and my marriage ended, and when my children struck out on lives of their own, scars and all. Now, as I am reaching a crossroads in my career as a retail manager, the bartering and praying, once again, falls upon deaf ears.
Following the recipe has not saved my store. No matter how hard I have worked, the long disciplined hours, treating others as I wish to be treated, keeping it simple, having a theme; “Full, Fresh and Friendly…”, none of it has not paid off. For the past year, I guessed that this day was coming, but in the past 3 months, I have known. Keeping the secret has slowly been eating away at my soul. In the past month, I have stopped ordering product, but I have done my best to keep the store looking groovy. However, in the past 2 weeks, she has begun to show her impending demise. I feel like I am slowly closing the casket on my baby, the child I have diligently raised to be a beautiful woman, is dying. There is nothing to barter with, no number of prayers will stop the store from closing, it’s done.
Tomorrow, we will put up the signs stating that this location is closing. This is happening, no matter what I say or do, no matter what I promise to do better, it is happening and my heart is breaking. I am told, that I am not to blame, that everyone knows how hard I tried, but it doesn’t stop the pain. I followed the recipe, the business plan I have learned to rely upon over the past decades, but location, location, location has done us in. I feel like I have let my team down, many of them do not drive and this location is the only one that suits their needs. Others, will find their way and me, my relationship with uncertainty continues. I still have no idea what will happen to me. I have been promised a position with the company, but what that looks like is anyone’s guess. Those who try to console me state that I have so much experience and talent that I will land on my feet, which is of some comfort, but the reality is, I am grieving the loss of a challenge I could not meet. The recipe has failed my team and I and for that, we must now grieve.
Once again, I feel like that scared young woman who is losing her mother, the young wife who is losing her spouse and the mother who is watching her scarred children walk away to begin their own journeys. It is my intention to use the same simple ingredients and begin again, to alter the recipe, but stick to my mottos, but for today, I grieve. I don’t know if what I am writing makes any sense, but it feels good to finally say it publicly, “This location is closing.” I can only hope that this is something that must be so I may move forward, in a new direction, to meet my potential, whatever that may be. This is the story I continually tell myself as I meet life’s challenges, it’s the only way to keep the shred of sanity I have left. This must happen for me to reach my potential, damn the recipe I had written for myself, this is the one that has been chosen for me.
Please forgive me if I am babbling, but I had something to say and this is where I choose to say it. This is my little note to the universe, if you will. It is my sincerest hope that my next recipe includes more creativity, more self-expression and most definitely, more Groovy Gail-ness. Please, please, please allow me to be me, no more reining in the passion, the energy that burns within me. I’m so tired of following protocol and being what everyone else expects of me. I’m a good person. Twisted, yes, but I’m a good person who deserves to be happy and if that means that I don’t follow the recipe from time to time, sobeit. I may not be picture perfect, but I’m delicious! I may be an acquired taste, but many great experiences in life are. Bon Appetit!
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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