There’s something magical about the smell of freshly baked bread or the sight of a perfectly risen cake that feels like a warm hug. I still remember the times when I used to stand beside the oven watching it rise, change the color, and notice every small change happening inside, even if it takes a very long time.

My love for baking started even before I owned an oven. Back in India, owning an oven isn’t a necessity—it’s often considered a luxury, something many people don’t even think about. I remember the time when bloggers began promoting the idea that you could bake a cake even without an oven. Pressure cookers became the new ovens, and a wave of creative home-baking solutions emerged.

I still remember my first vanilla cake (which was a disaster of course)! I didn’t have a baking tin or a parchment paper coz of which the cake stuck to the vessel and it smelled like eggs (Yet we emptied it). After my first attempt I stopped my desire to bake for a while (a long while though!). 

During a visit to my local grocery store, where they were selling cake tins, I was tempted to buy it which rekindled my interest in baking again. 

I started trying out cakes, cookies, and breads all in a pressure cooker and to my surprise it was tasting good and found myself getting better at it. I have always bought cakes from bakeries but a warm cake fresh from the oven tasted even better. My family started enjoying whatever I made (baked). 

By the time I had started watching videos and joined myself in many facebook groups which gave me so much theoretical baking knowledge. 

One thing I have to be thankful for, are the facebook groups which I have joined back then. You get a chance to look at the queries of various people, which were mostly doubts I wasn’t even aware of. People were ready to help, to clear the doubts which helped me learn the science that existed behind the baking. 

Then covid hit, We had to be inside home all the time, shops were closed, that was the time my interest truly peaked – I wanted to do it the proper way. I began dreaming of owning an oven and preparing to bake in earnest. After what felt like forever, when lockdown restrictions eased and online orders resumed, I started ordering every single thing needed for baking like spatulas, measuring cups, mixing bowls, baking tins in all sizes (which of course was not needed at that time), bread pan and of course a small sized oven. My baking journey was officially underway.

You won’t believe how I felt when the oven got delivered. It has become my favorite possession. My house absolutely smelled of cakes and breads from there on 😀

I always thought of baking as a kind of therapy. There is something calming about carefully beating the eggs, folding it to the flour, watching the yeast rise and patiently setting the bread for proofing, the happiness in getting a perfectly flat surfaced cake and of course the compliments that we get later. 

When I moved to Stockholm, I was happier to find a bigger oven, which is a necessity here in every household. 

My interest in baking took a step higher when I also started frosting. Yes we do our own birthday cakes from then. 

It is a tradition in our home to make birthday cakes in a theme which are their current favorites. I found myself enjoying the process of making a themed cake, which might not be perfect, but to look at the happiness in their faces.

I’ve come to realize that baking has a rhythm, a gentle pace that forces you to slow down. You can’t rush a dough that needs to rise, and you can’t speed up a cake in the oven without risking disaster. It’s a lesson in patience, a reminder to trust the process—something we often forget in our fast-paced lives.

I won’t say that nothing ever goes wrong in my baking now, but I can usually tell what might have gone wrong.

Baking is also deeply personal. It’s my way of expressing love—to my family, to my friends, and even to myself. Few things are as satisfying as watching my boys’ faces light up when they take the first bite of something I’ve made and to look at them circling in the kitchen till the batch is empty. Those moments are worth every flour-covered counter and every failed batch of cookies.

So here’s to baking, to its messiness, its sweetness, and it’s quiet magic.