Okay, so maybe “cult” is a strong word. But when my daughter, Lily, started spending all her free time watching reruns of The Great British Baking Show, things got… intense. You could say she joined a baking “collective,” obsessed with soggy bottoms and perfectly proved dough.
It all started innocently enough. A rainy Saturday afternoon, a recommendation from a friend, and bam! Lily was hooked. Suddenly, our Netflix account was permanently stuck on Season 4, Episode 2 – Biscuit Week.
Forget homework, forget friends, forget breathing. It was all about Paul Hollywood’s steely gaze and Mary Berry’s floral jackets.
The Signs Were There (I Just Didn't See Them)
Looking back, the signs were obvious. The sudden disappearance of all our butter. The hushed whispers of “prove it, prove it.” The strangely intense desire to own a stand mixer the size of a small car.
Then there was the language. Our everyday vocabulary was replaced with phrases like “crumb structure,” “lamination,” and the dreaded “undercooked.”
I even caught her measuring my arm span, muttering something about needing a bigger proving drawer. A proving drawer! Where does one even buy a proving drawer?
The Dough Rises, So Does the Anxiety
The peak of the “cult” activity? The neighborhood bake sale. Lily insisted on making everything from scratch. No store-bought cookies for *her* followers.
She spent three days perfecting a batch of sourdough bread that, according to her, had a “tangy aroma that evoked memories of a Tuscan vineyard.” It smelled like slightly sour bread to me. But I didn't dare say anything.
The bake sale was…interesting. There was a lot of talk about gluten development. Several arguments broke out over the proper way to knead dough. One poor soul even tried to critique Lily's meringue, which resulted in a very awkward silence.
Acceptance and Unexpected Benefits
Eventually, I came to terms with Lily's “baking collective.” I mean, it’s not hurting anyone, right? Besides, the constant stream of homemade goodies is a definite perk.
And honestly, it’s kind of endearing. Seeing her so passionate about something, even if that something is a meticulously crafted croquembouche, is pretty great.
We've even started watching The Great British Baking Show together. I still don't understand half of what they're talking about, but I now know the difference between a Genoise sponge and a Victoria sponge. Small victories!
Finding the Humor in the Batter
The best part? We can laugh about it now. We joke about the “cult of sourdough” and the tyranny of Paul Hollywood. We even have a secret code word for when Lily's baking obsession starts to get out of hand: “Soggy bottom!”
So, yeah, my daughter kind of joined a cult. A flour-dusted, sugar-coated, utterly delicious cult. And you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way.
Although, if anyone knows where I can buy a reasonably priced proving drawer, please let me know. Asking for a friend.
You can catch "My Daughter Joined a Cult" and other exciting stories on demand, whenever you like. If you're looking for content like this, consider searching for "My Daughter Joined a Cult Watch Online Free" to find similar humorous and heartwarming tales.
