I decided to do another easy bake this week. I was worried about messing it up and then being afraid to go near my mixing bowl ever again, so I chose lemon and poppy seed cake.

I never used to mind being bad at things because I felt if I practised them enough I would learn. Now if I am not good at something immediately I feel surprised and upset. Being bad at things feels like an attack on my personality; I don’t know when I got so big for my boots. Recently I’ve seen TikTok compilation videos of men being asked if something happened to the pilot on a flight, could they land the plane? – and they all say ‘yes’. I smirk at my phone and think they’re idiots, but then what makes me so different? I see a piece of art in a gallery and think ‘I could do that’, I think about picking up a new hobby and assume I am going to be amazing at it from the get-go only to find out that, shock horror, I’m not the next Picasso.

I used to play a lot of music growing up and was good at it. I haven’t practised saxophone consistently in years and the other day I picked it up and realised I can’t do it anymore; I haven’t touched it since. Avoiding it is no way to re-learn a skill but when I put the reed on the mouthpiece and blew it made this awful sound that felt so embarrassing. I remember when we had our spring concerts at school and I used to pretend like I didn’t want to be there but actually, I loved playing for people and sometimes teachers would come and compliment me on my performance afterwards. It felt good to be good at something and, in my mind, it compensated for being so poor at maths or not being able to remember the beginning and end dates of all Stalin’s five-year plans. Now I’m bad at the saxophone, I’m still bad at maths, and I don’t even remember how many five-year plans Stalin had. I was feeling pretty useless so I didn’t want to risk doing something too complicated and having this bake go wrong – my sense of self couldn’t take it!

I’ve made this cake many times before so it felt safe, a lemon and poppy seed cake is one of my favourites. I love the sharp, fresh taste of lemon and the sugar makes it sweet and delightful. I love the golden colour on top as it comes out of the oven and the hue of warm buttery sunlight when you cut into it. Most of all I love rubbing the sugar and zest together in a bowl feeling the coarse granules in between my fingertips. It’s rare that you get to put your hands in food like that and it feels so fun.

I am taking this bake to see my friend from home. It has been a long time since we lived in the same place. University sent us off in different directions and when I returned to London I was excited to see her but then just as I came she left to live up North. My other friends joke that we can’t exist in the same place and that maybe secretly we’re just one person. She’s home for a week and I will take some cake to make her happy when I see her. It’s a shame when friends live far away because you know about their life only through stories and there’s very little that you actually get to experience together. We used to get ready for parties together or I’d stop off at her house before meeting our other friends at the pub. I remember she used to stand in her mirror holding a hairbrush and aggressively tugging at knots in her hair. I haven’t seen her brush her hair in ages because we just meet out at the place now.

I enjoyed making this one and it turned out very nicely. The enjoyment is the meaningful part of baking and if it did go wrong, that would be fine. It wouldn’t mean more than that I baked and it went wrong, in the same way, I used to be good at the saxophone and now I’m not and that doesn’t mean anything more significant either. But still, it’s a win when you’re feeling fragile and something goes well. I hope my friend likes the cake and can eat it on the train as she hurtles hundreds of miles away from me.

Goodbye for now.

Watch the reel on my Instagram!