A Baker’s Husband

I am a Baker.  Well, not just a Baker – I am a very blessed Baker. Why so blessed you may ask… it’s because I have a Baker’s Husband. What’s a Baker’s husband, you ask? Well, he is no ordinary husband, he is really quite extraordinary. Let me explain.

A Baker’s Husband understands that his wife is different from most. She thinks, breathes and dreams in terms of baking. Butter, sugar, flour, eggs – always needs more butter. Vanilla bean paste, cocoa and espresso powder. And pans…round, square, tart, spring form and Bundt pans. You can never have too many Bundt pans! Then there are the cookbooks – old, new, hardback, paperback, spiral bound, broken binding and binder clipped. There are cake pictures torn from waiting room magazines and jotted notes and scribbled recipes from friends and family that are kept in safe places and can never be found when they are remembered.

A Baker’s Husband accepts it when vacations are spent at King Arthur Flour taking a baking class or shopping for baking supplies or both. In his mind, he has already rearranged the truck to accommodate the bags and boxes of the new baking necessities before they have even left the store.

A Baker’s Husband agrees that the new shiny red stand mixer should go a rolling cart in the utility room in the place of the freezer. After all she doesn’t want him to get a hernia every time he is asked to carry the heavy mixer from the cabinet to the counter…and the freezer will fit perfectly in the empty space in the garage.

A Baker’s Husband is a taste tester. This is not a job for the faint of heart. For better or worse, he willingly sacrifices to ensure the strawberries are sweet enough, the chocolate is rich enough and the buttercream is smooth enough. And on the rare occasion that the pie filling does not set or puff pastry does not puff, though he says it is delicious, a Baker’s Husband is ready with keys in hand to get more butter and eggs for the next batch will be perfect.

A Baker’s Husband is patient. He holds her purse while she sorts through crates of apples looking for just the right size to caramel. He drives her to small baking shops in out of the way places and he waits quietly as she admires bins filled with various baking gadgets for which he has no idea their use. And when her eyes glaze over at the site of a gleaming 6 shelf double stack oven that would never fit in her kitchen, a Baker’s Husband doesn’t shatter the dream, he admires it.

I have a Baker’s husband. Is he extraordinary because I am a Baker? No, he is extraordinary because God made him that way. And for that I am very blessed.

 

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