If you’ve ever followed a baking recipe to the letter, weighed everything, preheated the oven, set a timer, only to pull something out that looks nothing like the photo, I want you to know something straight away:

It’s probably not you.

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve committed fully to a recipe, believing every word, only to be left holding something that… simply wasn’t what I’d been promised. Brownies are a classic example. You’re told they’ll be rich and fudgy. You do everything right. And what comes out is a perfectly respectable chocolate sponge. Not unpleasant — just not what anyone signed up for.

Then there’s meringue.

I’ve had meringues that weep like they’re going through something. Shells that come out bobbly and chewy. Pavlovas that collapse the moment you turn your back, as if they’ve lost the will to live.

Pastry? Shrunk. Tough. Cracked. Or mysteriously misshapen, despite having “rested” obediently in the fridge like the recipe asked.

And scones, the bake people apologise to me about most.
“I just can’t make them.”
“They never rise.”
“They’re flat.”
“They could be used as building materials.”

Scones, oddly, always surprise me. They’re simple on paper, but they’re one of the bakes that seem to knock confidence the fastest.

Then there was a friend of mine who, for reasons known only to herself, would never follow a recipe exactly. Now, for savoury cooking, this is totally fine. Encouraged, even. But for cakes and patisserie? That’s a risky game.

I went to her house once, and she pointed proudly at an ovenproof dish and asked " Guess what that is?”

I looked. Genuinely. I had no idea.

“That’s your sticky toffee pudding recipe!” she announced gleefully.

Except she hadn’t had this ingredient. Or that one. So she’d substituted them with whatever happened to be in the cupboard at the time. When I tell you it did not resemble a sticky toffee pudding in anyway, texture, flavour, appearance, I really mean it. I didn’t know what to say. I laughed. And nodded. And quietly accepted that this pudding was now something else entirely.

All of this has taught me one important thing: most people aren’t bad at baking.

They’ve just been let down, by recipes that don’t work, that haven’t been properly tested, or that don’t explain why something is done a certain way.

And that’s enough to make anyone doubt themselves.

Once you understand why a brownie turns cakey instead of fudgy, why a meringue weeps, or why a scone spreads instead of lifting, everything shifts. You stop baking from fear. You stop thinking you’re “just not good at baking”. You start trusting yourself again.

That’s why I always come back to foundations.

The recipes that behave themselves. The ones that work on tired days. The ones you can adapt endlessly once you know they’ve got your back.

And, quietly, that’s why I created the Baking Bundle.

It’s a collection of the foundations I trust most, the recipes I rely on when it has to work. Sweet pastry. Meringue. The building blocks that give you confidence rather than taking it away.

Because when you know something works, it’s endless how you can use it.

And yes..... I’ve made all the disasters.. so you don't have to...X