Baking makes me happy.
There is something about the slow accumulation of ingredients, the puzzling out substitutions for what I don't have and the addition of experimental ingredients, the mixing it all together and sometimes layering when I'm feeling fancy, my friend the oven beeping when it's ready, the ceremony of sliding the pan into the oven and then the abiricipation as smells spread throughout the house. And then opening the oven like a present on Christmas, pulling out the hot pan, judging whether it's ready or needs more time, sometimes racking and waiting the item to cool a little, and above all, the first taste hot out if the oven.
There are not enough exclamation points to show how much I love it all.
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However, I do have to bake with the end in mind. I cannot stand to waste food, and my little rat brain worries about letting brownies go stale.
Now that I record my blood pressure every day (on the app "Twine" - thanks doc!) I have objective evidence that eating a pan of brownies does more than make me feel a little shaky the next day.
On the other hand, omelets made in my microwave steamer are as satisfying emotionally. They are not fragrant but otherwise have the important elements or ritual, creativity, preparation, anticipation and enjoyment. I don't think they can ever substitute for baking but they may fill in from time to time, at least on those days when I need a solid protein base rather than a carbo and chocolate rush and crash.
