by Jeff Marshall
Dear Bekah,
Hello, Uncle Oscar here! Congratulations on your high school graduation AND your birthday. What a busy and exciting time for you! The world is your oyster, and you’re just beginning to open the shell.
Let me preface this letter by saying I love you very much. You’re my goddaughter, you’re the eldest child of my oldest and dearest friend, and you’re one of the sweetest young ladies I’ve ever met.
But I have to admit it. You make me sick!
Nothing personal, but I have to be honest with you and let you know how much it disgusts me to see all these wonderful culinary creations that seemingly come out of you like some magical high-class vending machine. How do you do it??? HOW DO YOU DO IT????
Chocolate Ganache Salted Caramel Pie.
Do you know what really gripes my bottom? You make it look so darn easy! I take a recipe, I follow it to the tee, I do everything I’m supposed to do down to the minutest of details – and it’s a guarantee that the smoke alarm will be going off within 15 minutes.
I count every grain of flour, I knead every ball of dough till my fingers are numb, I talk to the sugar as I’m dumping it to promote happiness and success, and yet this is what happens:
Help me, Obi Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope. (I know that reference is 20 years too old for you, but you catch my drift.)
You need to write a book for those of us who obviously don’t have your baking version of a green thumb. What are your secrets? What am I missing? How long do I need to pray before entering the kitchen area?
I know I’ll never be Julian Child or Benny Crocker, but I’d like to at least make an apple pie for Thanksgiving that doesn’t have water in the bottom of it or a blackberry cobbler that doesn’t chip a tooth when you bite down on it.
Hope all is well! Give my love to the family. And wishing you all the best as you start this next chapter in your life. Don’t forget about us little people when you’re telling off Gordon Ramsay and winning TOP CHEF SEASON 124!
Love,
Uncle O
I love this letter! Too sweet!