Why do I believe this? The first reason that comes to mind is a person, my paternal grandmother. I called her Nan-Nan. She loved to bake and she passed this love of baking onto me. She loved to cook too. One story I remember is when I asked her to bake me peanut butter cookies. She did because she spoiled me like that. I took one bite and said, “No, I meant ginger snaps.” What a brat! Of course, I’m sure I ate them all anyway.
Baking smells like home, of comfort and sweetness. My grandmother understood that you cannot bake for someone and not give them love along with it. I baked for my son throughout his childhood and now he bakes too. He bakes brownies from a box mix but it still counts. This baking love gets passed on through the generations.
I bake for my husband and son because I love them and because I love to bake. It’s all love and it’s all good.