When
I began this blog, I called it “Icing and Ink” because I thought that in
addition to writing, I sometimes would post about baked goods. Finally, here’s one.
I
write a lot in cafes and bakeries.
I am motivated by muffins as it were. In fact, I believe in the power of baked goods. They have physical, emotional,
even spiritual qualities.
How
do we stereotypically welcome someone to a community? By bringing over a pie or cookies or brownies. It is a symbol of celebration and
fellowship. It shows abundance.
Most
descriptions of feasts have some kind of table “groaning with pies.” In “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” one
of the first thing Ichabod Crane notes in the Van Tassel mansion is: “the
ample charms of a genuine Dutch country tea-table, in the sumptuous time of
autumn. Such heaped up platters of cakes of various and almost indescribable
kinds, known only to experienced Dutch housewives! There was the doughty
doughnut, the tender olykoek, and the crisp and crumbling cruller; sweet cakes
and short cakes, ginger cakes and honey cakes, and the whole family of cakes.
And then there were apple pies, and peach pies, and pumpkin pies…”
In
Washington Irving’s story, the food has a metaphorical connotation, both sexual
and avaricious. This makes
sense. Years ago a study showed
the number one smell that arouses men isn’t perfume, but pumpkin pie.
There’s
a reason that grocery stores place their bakeries at the front and waft the
air towards people as they walk in.
It quickens our step. It
both comforts and excites.
There
also is another aspect to baked goods.
The New York Times reported on recent studies that show people up for
parole stand a better chance at being granted it if their cases are heard early
in the morning or right after lunch or a snack break. We are more open-minded and willing to consider choices when
our blood sugar level is up. When
it declines, we mentally shut down to conserve our energy.
Years
ago, when I was in graduate school, there was a tradition of bringing baked
goods when you defended your thesis.
On the one hand, I thought it was ridiculous. It struck me as a submissive, fawning, gesture. On the other hand, it made sense. Good fences may make for good
neighbors, but good brownies make for good moods.
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