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My mother is a fabulous baker. When we were kids, she had a round Racold oven. It birthed a million birthday cakes and cookies and almost all of my childhood happiness. I still remember my best pretend play is that of a baker. My toys were make believe oven that I crafted out of a cardboard box, wooden ladles as spatulas, round cushions as cakes. Role playing too much since childhood turned me into a monster, a purist, a connoisseur (in a good way) and an unabashed lover of cakes. I have whipped and licked batters, I have waited in high excitement glued to the window of the oven till the cake has risen, I have opened the oven door midway (don't you do that!) to check how it's doing and watched the cake collapse....

I have baked a million and I have eaten a trillion. Yes, a trillion. I took the opportunity as a cabin crew to savour cakes and pastries all around the world. After my flying chapter comes to a close, with the leap of faith, I clipped my wings and left the airlines, bought a refrigerator, a table top mixer and a tonne of other kitchen equipments and started selling home baked cakes online, and they say, the rest is history.