I’ve always loved baking…the precision, the perfection always speaks to my OCD mind. Because of this, I usually stick to baking things from scratch. It lets me be anal about the amount of flour or sugar without anyone (good naturedly, of course) laughing at me.
Despite all of this, I broke out some beignet mix that my mom brought back from New Orleans a few months ago. I’ve been waiting for a good time to make it, as I didn’t want to waste something so good on a random Saturday. And, in reality, it was very easy. Boxed mix and water. It turned out so good – fluffy and greasy; much like a doughnut in fact, but much more tasty. I’m not sure if it turned out like it was supposed to, but is that really the point?
So often I save things (mixes, wine, events) for a better time or location. I realized this weekend, that if I continue to do that, I’ll forever miss the enjoyment afforded to me in this life. So what if I used my beignet mix on a Saturday afternoon? So what if no one else was around to enjoy it? So what if there was no special occasion?
Life, I’m learning, is about finding the joy and happiness in the little things, the little events. It’s about embracing imperfection and loving it anyway. It’s about capturing the moment whenever I can…and enjoying it.