A Recipe for Inspiration

A few weeks ago, I made a spice cake for my sister’s birthday. This meant I also had to make The World’s Most Delicious and Intimidating Frosting. The recipe looks deceptively easy. You drop

2 cups of brown sugar

1 cup buttermilk

1.5 sticks butter

1 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. vanilla extract

into a saucepan WITHOUT STIRRING and set the heat to low. And then you wait and watch the butter melt and the brown sugar loosen into spirals. You watch and wait until the whole surface roils into an unappealing froth. Then you start to check its temperature every minute or so until the mess reaches exactly 236 degrees (Fahrenheit). Then you take the pan off the heat and stir like crazy for 3-5 minutes until the mixture starts to lose its sheen (which will be right about when your forearm muscles cramp). Then you have approximately 97 seconds to spread the frosting between and around both layers of the cake before it solidifies.

If all goes well, you have a delicious masterpiece; if you miss the temperature or the stirring time, you can wind up with a gooey unset mess dripping from the cake plate or a sugar fossil lodged in your saucepan.

Still, I really like making this frosting. It tastes amazing and makes the kitchen smell like a toffee factory. But what I most enjoy is that it always seems to set new ideas bubbling in my brain. Staring into the mess of metamorphosis and trusting it to transform into something delightful (without my stirring it too soon!) helps bring me into the observant/introspective mindset I need to write a poem.

It reminds me that creativity feeds on the sweet spot between tedium and mild danger, that mode between attention and reverie where the mind is focused on a task but still has a bit of room to wander. Driving a car, knitting a hat, sharpening a knife, lowering a candy thermometer into a saucepan every thirty seconds.  Whatever tasks bring you into this working-resting state, I hope you find time for them this September.