Baking virtuoso in the making (I)

Erm, OK, so I went to my first baking class at the community club. Told a friend who's known me since sec school and she says it's so unlike me to learn baking. Hmm.

I was expecting to get my hands dirty with coagulated flour and slimy eggs but all I did was to sit through a boring lecture by a roly-poly instructor. If you thought that home economics cooking lessons in sec school were fun, you are right. It just goes downhill from there. I suspect the tertiary-student-looking girl who looks like she should be hanging out in pubs and shopping malls thinks so too. I overheard her saying it's quite a disappointment that we don't get any hands-on experience. She should have suspected that something's not too right when she first stepped into the kitchen: she said a friendly hello and all the aunties just stared at her wordlessly. It sank, literally, with a thud.

Sitting next to me was this young professional who might be a bit older than me. She must have been one of those insufferable, model students who did their maths homework on time and snitch on fellow students who dye their hair. She's the first to respond to the instructor's prompts (loudly and clearly--I can almost hear a certain teacher: "That's right, girls! You should be like XYZ, speak up clearly when answering questions in class, OK! Don't mumble!") and to volunteer to help.

When the instructor remarked that we should go home and try out the recipe ourselves this week, she nodded and said earnestly "Yah, to experience it". I almost sniggered out loud except that I was having a lousy sore throat and it came out like a wheeze. I know I'm mean but for crying out loud, this is just about a chocolate fudge cake, not some Unlocking the Power Within crap seminar. Besides, she had asked me a question earlier about a step that she had missed hearing and when I couldn't answer, she sniggered. I mean, that's not fair what; I was busy looking at other people.

Overall, the participants' median (mean? mode?) age was lower than I thought. There were quite a number of erm, rich homemakers and white collars who look to be in their mid- to late-30's. I saw Rolexes being flashed and expensive shoes and bags and cakey make-up. Of course the ubiquitous HDB aunties are also represented (including the auntie who kept complaining loudly that the recipe is too difficult). So, quite a motley bunch.

If you've read Maeve Binchy's Evening Class you'll attend any kind of adult classes with a secret anticipation that you'll meet all sorts of normal people with abnormal...I mean, interesting, lives and that it'll lead to a marvellous adventure and leave everyone better off than before. But baking is somewhat different from learning the Italian language so, OK, forget it.

But in attempting to be a good student, I shall try out the choc fudge cake recipe this weekend. The class is really boring, but I want to learn the Milo cake so that the next time Mraz drops by our island again I would have an excuse to go to the airport and scream along with the teenage groupies, "Mraz! I baked this for YOoOU!!" Heh heh.