Baking isn’t just a woman’s hobby, but a man’s hunger

Ryan Ianni – Staff Writer –

I’m a man. I shave, I drink beer, I watch sports, I listen to rock music and I love to bake.  Wait, what was that last one? That’s right, I’m coming clean and laying it all out on the table; I’m a man who loves to bake.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who grew up helping mom bake the cookies, which amounted to no more than handing the flour or whatever random ingredient was needed. Then I got to high school, looking to ease my way into a new school with a wider range of classes. What looks easy? Cooking doesn’t sound too bad; maybe I’ll try that out.

It started off simple, with nothing too adventurous in terms of the class’s baking exploits. Simple muffins, chocolate chip cookies and brownies, the run of the mill types of things that just about everyone has baked at one time or another.

But the simplicity of the class soon ended when my teacher, who was actually a rather cruel and strict woman, and seemed a stark contrast to what a cooking teacher should be like, informed us that we would soon be creating things such as baked Alaska, cream-filled pumpkin rolls and strawberry rhubarb miniature tarts.

My mind was effectively blown after this revelation, because these were desserts that I had never heard of, and now had to bake properly, seeing as my grade in the class depended on it. We always had a chance to work on them in class so that we could compare with other students and hopefully see that we were on the same page. However, this is when something occurred to me: I was doing better than everyone at it, and I was actually enjoying the time baking?

I must confess that I fell into stereotypes and simply assumed that the females in the class would naturally be better at this endeavor than myself, but this was not the case. The teacher often used my finished products as the “example” for how to properly create these baked goods. It made me both proud and slightly embarrassed, seeing as how, you know, I’m a man. Friday nights would arrive, and instead of living it up and hitting the town, I’d sit in my kitchen. With a plethora of baking supplies surrounding me, I would be concocting all the new recipes of delicious desserts that I had learned to create. I found myself having to blare rock music as I did this to compensate for any feelings of lost masculinity, but it was well worth it.

So yes, I love to bake and I’m a man. My baking pleasure hasn’t subsided since then, and if anything, it has only grown. My fellow classmates can attest to the fact that I will bring in baked goods just because I want to. I may be going against the social grain by being a passionate male baker, but don’t judge me; at least not until you’ve tried my banana bread.