My husband surprised me last night with the news that he had bought something for me that I have had my heart set on having for 20 years. It is a Kitchen Aid Artisan 5 speed mixer and perfect for mixing dough, grinding meats to make sausage, and for mixing the ingredients for a delectable desert. I could not be happier, especially since it comes in a screaming tangerine orange which reflects my love for all things from the University of Tennessee.
Now when people walk into my kitchen, I expect them to be completely grossed out by the orange color scheme and blinding sheen reflecting off of my growing collection of kitchen aid appliances and cutlery. This should also add some color to the putrid brown, tan, and green color which permeates the typical army housing block. Tan, tan, tan, er, I mean sand, sand, sand is the color adorning the typical exterior and it is not pretty. But before I launch into a speech about the woes of living in concrete army housing, let's go back to my mixer and how excited I am.
Some of my earliest memories of baking were from shared moments I had with my mother helping her make brownies for school. I grew up using a Kitchen Aid Mixer and everything else pales in comparison to its power and ability. Using one is where I learned the proper steps for slowly incorporating dry ingredients into wet ones, and where I discovered that creativity in the kitchen is one of life's greatest and simplest pleasures.
One day it is my goal to teach my own children how to bake. When my fingers and eyes are too old to continue, I want to pass on my mixer to them so they can experience the rhapsody of beating butter and the splish splash of whipping cream churning into puffy clouds. The experience and memories are enough to make me wanna stay up all night and bake, just for the heck of it. After all Sweet Dreams are made of these....