Dough- Past doesn’t change the future, but time affects

“Princess Tiana, always baking,” my mum used to say whenever the smell of fresh pastries drifted from our kitchen. As time passed, the magic of baking faded away from me, especially after the incident; the guilt never left me. It left me in the dark, deeper than any secret.

***

“Here, you have to take a look at this,” she tells me, handing me a pretty, aesthetic, picnic-themed flyer from her pack. “Kim, I told you, I stopped baking; it reminds me of the incident too much” “Suit yourself, but I’m telling you, you’ve got skills to use” “Kim, none of the flyers you showed me have ever made me want to bake. “You ask me to cook, I will cook, but not bake,” I tell Kim in a serious tone, hinting that I want to end the conversation. Alright then, well I got to go now so byeeee”. As I picked up the teacups from the dining table, a flyer was still sitting there: the baking flyer. I  picked it up and checked the details. On the back was a piece of writing: I knew you would choose this flyer. She drew doodles of grinning faces. Ahhhh Kim.

Jan. 10th, 2 p.m. — Baking Sessions, mhm, I check the date, Jan 10th. OH  that’s today, and I’ve got exactly 2 hours. Ring Ring “Hello?” “Charli, you’re going to stop thinking so much about it. As your therapist and your best friend, I’m telling you to try exposure therapy.”

It’s like she can read my mind, but no way am I going to bake. The flashbacks hit differently, and anyway, I don’t have time for all that, plus I need to go shopping right now instead.

But when I arrived and parked the car, I noticed that it was the exact plaza where they held the sessions. A delicious aroma drifted past me. One part of me urges me to face my fears through exposure therapy, while the other half wants nothing to do with this place.

I walk inside; a nice lady greets me. “Helloooo, I’m Mrs. Pamella. Are you here for the baking sessions or for the yoga relaxation?” “Oh, I was looking for the baking sessions, but I’m not sure about joining. Maybe I’ll just try it for today.” “Haha, well, baking is for everyone, but not everyone is for baking”, she tells me, as I observe the baking awards and certificates behind her on a giant wall enviously. “Ahhh, this is all our former students’ certificates from baking competitions”, she tells me proudly, beaming.

“Would you like me to lead you for the baking sessions? We still have one open spot if you’d like?” “Yes, please”, I  replied politely. She led me down the hall. Just as she opened the door, warm sunlight poured through the windows, and the room smelled of butter, sugar, and fresh pastries. “Hiii, I’m Sofia, and you are?” A young lady who looked to be in her early twenties eagerly came up to me. “I’m Charli.”, “Well, Charli, everyone has already started baking; today’s challenge is cupcakes”. Sofia shows me an empty booth. “There are a couple of starter recipes on the counter, and the rest of the ingredients are under the counter in a small cabinet. I will be at my booth”, Sofia tells me excitedly as she points at every item. I walk over to my booth. Fancy. I look around me. Everyone has already started, so I quickly got the oven ready, setting it to 370°F.  As I whisked the batter, I whisked out my worries too. The next hour passed by quickly. “Well, everyone, time’s up; start cleaning up, it’s time”, Sofia announces, walking around with a fork. I observe her taste everyone else’s cupcakes; she hides her disgust well and yet compliments everyone in a unique manner. Everybody’s cupcakes look splendid. I look at mine, barely exciting. It was the simplest red velvet cupcake, yet Sofia still looks over the dessert excitedly. “Yum, Charli, you have to stay after and talk with me,” Sofia tells me with a smile. As everyone walks out, Sofia comes to me. “Your baking is really good; I want to recruit you to the baking team”, she tells me as we walk to the check-in counter. “Ahh, Sofia, a recruit for the baking team- exciting,” Mrs. Pamella cheers with a big smile. “Me? Recruit me!?  Why me?” I exclaim, confused. “Part of why Sofia and I set this baking session up is to help us find another member for the baking team” “So, would you like to join? One bite said it all. Real talent.” Sofia eagerly smiles at me. “I will think about it”, I tell them, unsure. “Here, take this”, Mrs. Pamella says, handing me a business card.

* **

“AND YOU SAID WHAT?!” Kim screams, spitting the tea out. “All I told her was that I was unsure” “As your bestie and therapist, remember what we talked about with exposure therapy. You will join the team!” “Just think about having an award with your name from your passion” I think back to the wall of awards. Having my name seemed like a dream, a beautiful dream. “You know what? I’m gonna do it!” I tell Kim confidently, yanking the business card out of my purse. I dial in the number,

Charli – Hi, this is Charli from yesterday’s baking sessions

Charli – I want to join the team

Charli – …if it’s still open

A few dots appear. “She’s online.” “OOOHHHH, what did she say?” “She’s typing”.

Sofia- Wide open for you Charli

Sofia- Lets meet at bayside cafe trmw 1 pm

Charli – 👍️

              ***

The next day, I meet them at the café right on time. “Charliiiii, here sit sit, Sofia will be here in a moment; she’s finishing up another session”, Mrs. Pamella calls out as soon as I enter the door. I take a seat by the table. “So this competition is very prestigious in our whole state. Sofia and I were already accepted, although apparently we need a third person in the competition” “So the third person is me?” “Exactly, so in this competition we work with 5 other teams; we have to bake our way up through each round” “Yup, and every time we move up, we must bake more delicate dishes” Sofia finishes it up. “When is the competition?” “The first competition is two weeks away.” “We’d better get baking, then,” I call out enthusiastically. After we order some drinks, Mrs. Pamella explains each team’s strategy. “But you must be careful with one team. They injure people in an ‘accident.’” Sofia tells me with air quotes, “But isn’t that not allowed?” “The judge is from their centre.” “Why didn’t anyone change the judge? Didn’t any team ever bring awareness?” “The judge is Zach Rockelle”. He used to be my favourite chef. He was my idol in my teen years. “So wouldn’t Zach be choosing his team every round?” “Yes, but he’s forced to choose other teams fairly until the last round with two teams left” “Luckily for the last round, one of the eliminated teams will judge the winner”. They continue giving me more information about Zach; they tell me his expectations and what he sees from every team.

After another 30 minutes of serious discussion and some more matcha strawberry milk tea, I invited Mrs. Pamella and Sofia to my place so we could practice. We first head to Sofia’s house for a mini oven, then to my house. I also call Kim over to be our judge, and to bring us some more vanilla extract. We start practising; first we start to bake a choco-chip pumpkin tart. “So when there are three people on a team, one person usually works on the base, another person works on frosting, filling, and toppings, and the third person helps out and brings ingredients or supplies”, Sofia explains to me. I choose the third person. Plus, it’s easier for me to grab things since we’re at my house. As soon as we started baking, flashbacks hit hard. I looked over to Kim nervously; she looked me in the eye and gave me a thumbs up. But I panicked; I ran out of the kitchen scared.

I went to the bathroom and locked myself in. Sofia and Mrs. Pamella ran after me; they knocked on the door. “Hey, Charli, are you ok?” “Uhhh yes yes,”. I wiped my watery eyes and stepped out.

“When I baked in my very first competition, I was already struggling with baking practice. I barely understood what was happening with my mum, and I ignored the signs. During the competition, my mum had a stroke. She passed away. Slowly, baking lost its magic for me. The more I baked, the more it reminded me of Mum.” I explained to Sofia and Mrs. Pamella. “Charli, I’m really sorry about that.” Sofia gently tells me as she hugs me. “Charli, you can’t change the past, but you can make the future better. Your mum would’ve wished for you to win,” Mrs. Pamella reminds me. “She did wish me to win; it was her last words to me”, I replied, sniffing. I take a moment and think about it; my mum had always wanted me to win, and I could make her wish come true. I get up from the chair, brush my eyes off and get back to baking.

I take a deep breath and go over to Mrs. Pamella, who needed help to get the whisking machine out of the cabinet. Sofia had already started baking the tart base; I helped Mrs. Pamella with the purée, passing her the remaining ingredients as she whisked. Twenty minutes later, they finished prepping, so I poured the mixture into the dish and put it in the mini oven Sofia brought. “We just have to wait 20 minutes; my mini oven is faaasttttttt!” “Pleaaaaaaase I am starving!” Kim calls out.

Soon the oven rings. I grab an oven mitt and slowly take out the pumpkin tart. “Charliiiiiii, I’M HUNGRY”, Kim calls out loudly. I quickly sprinkle the chocolate chips over it and place the tarts on the nice plates. “Here you go, ladies”, I  announce as I serve them.

For the next thirteen days, Mrs. Pamella, Sofia, and Kim came over to my house since I ended up having a bigger kitchen. We baked all day: pavlovas, cheesecakes, macarons, sponge cakes, croissants, Boston cream pie,  Japanese soufflé cheesecake, baklava, mousse cups. The day before the competition, I baked confidently, without fear.

After Mrs. Pamella and Sofia went back home, Kim and I crashed on the couch. “That has been a LOT  of sugar,” Kim tiredly tells me as she dramatically rubbed her stomach. I look down at my feet, anxious for tomorrow. Kim notices my droopy face. “Hey, meet you tomorrow at the comp”, she tells me with a warm smile and leaves.

Kim- Hey

Charli – Wsp

Kim- You should take some rest

Charli – Ig

Kim- Gn

Slowly, I shuffle my feet to my bed. Except I don’t sleep. I lie awake wondering if this is really what I want. What if I can’t?  What if it all goes wrong again?

***

“Hey, Sofia. Why are you calling me?” “Aren’t you forgetting something? Like the baking competition that starts in exactly one hour?” “Uh-Oh”. I quickly jump out of bed and rush to get ready. I drive so fast I nearly get a speeding ticket.

I pant heavily as I run through the door. Kim was anxiously tapping her feet, waiting for me. “Charli, you made it just in time. The first round starts in 10 minutes. They’ve assigned us booth 3,” she told me as she handed me my apron, helped me remove my coat, and grabbed my bags. I run as fast as I can, trying not to trip over anyone. “Charli!” Mrs. Pamella calls in worriedly. I  climb up the stairs, running over to booth 3. “Contestants, round one is starting in 2 minutes; get ready”, the baking coordinator announces. “Alright team, we can bake this competition better than a soufflé”.

Click-clack. Footsteps echo across the wooden floor as a tall man approaches. “Ordinary people, if you’re on stage, get off, please”, he yells loudly. “Guys, is that Zach Rockelle?” “I bet your gumdrops”, Mrs. Pamella assures me. Boy, does Zach Rockelle. The stern voice. The professional suit. Everything about him screamed strictly. As Zach Rockelle goes over the rules, my anxiety builds up. Kim notices me from the crowd; she smiles and gestures to me to take a deep breath. My mind calms out a little more. “For today’s baking round, we got our dish, French entremet and the timer starts…NOW!” Immediately, everybody rushes towards the shelves to get the best ingredients. Sugar, flour, eggs, peanuts, strawberries, butter, milk, heavy whipping cream, and gelatin. Mrs. Pamella starts baking the sponge cake layer, Sofia starts prepping the mousse, and I start on the purée. Heavy sweet smells fill the auditorium; I look around. Almost everybody’s cake is finished except ours. Oh no no no. I immediately send Sofia to grab more strawberries while Mrs. Pamella and I take the cake out of the oven. I top it with some leftover purée and more cream. Sofia slices some strawberries and places them on top. “TIME’S UP! HANDS UP!” Zach Rockelle announces. I looked at the cake; it wasn’t in its best shape compared with other contestants. One by one, Zach calls up each team forward with their cake. Soon it’s our turn; we bring the cake, trembling. He lifts up the spoon and takes a small bite. Unlike Sofia, he doesn’t bother hiding his disappointment. It was clear we were going to lose. After 10 more long minutes, Zach Rockelle takes his index card and calls out the teams who made it in the next round. Anxiously, we wait for Zach Rockelle to call on team 3, but we never get called on. At the end, he gives an honourable mention for the design, but the taste messed up, so we didn’t make it. I run off the stage, crying. I was devastated. Kim found me in the bathroom. “Hey. Look how far you’ve come. A few weeks ago, you despised the word baking. Now you’re here, baking.”, she tells me. I guess she’s right. I take a few deep breaths and let her words sink in. Time doesn’t erase what happened. It teaches us that what happened doesn’t have to decide what happens next.

Slang and acronyms defined:

Ig- Short for I Guess

Wsp- Short for What’s Up

Comp-Short for Competition

Trmw- Short for Tomorrow 

Gn- Short for Good Night