I grew up eating Chiclets and Poppins. Chiclets was chewy with no possibility of popping like a bubble gum as much you tried, yet with distinct fruity flavor and taste. Poppins was rainbow in a roll. So beautiful to look at, translucent, round and the sweetest candy that one could have ever had. As I would pop either of them in my mouth and stroll inside the house, my feet would vehemently take me to the kitchen where my mother stood and cooked. As much as my mother would want me to help her out in the kitchen, I would make some excuse and wander around her. Not to mention a few taunts of how my future looks bleak when I get married or go to my inlaw's and her embarrassment when they come to know about my non-existing culinary skills. As for my mother, she could cook anything from a murg mussalam to a cheesy,baked vegetables in bechemel sauce to a tender, juicy bread crumbed fish fry and that too for an army load of guests and family members, invited and uninvited. She would cook and I (and my brother) would eat. All absolutely heavenly, incomparably delicious fare, each day.
Apparently, all the wandering with Chiclets and Poppins didn't go waste. Over the years (including my marriage to a carnivorous two legged specie) it seems that the wandering really helped. It definitely made me a cook! Apart from the aromas of each dish that my mother cooked, I absorbed their distinct tastes and their recipes unknowingly. My passion for cooking moved a level up and I started delving in baking. What triggered this was again Chiclets and Poppins. Not the candies, but my two gorgeous kids - a 3 year boy (Poppins) and a two month old girl (Chiclet)- who make everything around me sweet, colorful, distinct and fruity. So, this blog is for the Chiclet and Poppins in my life and all the baking that's done in their personal bakehouse.
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