Call me a word nerd. I’ll proudly wear the badge, as I’m always seeking impactful (and grammatically correct) writing. This serves me well in my work with clients, although it can be to my detriment—I can’t seem to turn off my radar for awkward, poorly constructed sentences—when I pick up a novel or The New York Times.

It is always a delight when a writer seems to be speaking directly to me, as was the case this morning while skimming a blog and being struck that no truer words have ever been uttered:

Self-control and babka do not coexist.

Oh Sally (of Sally’s Baking Addiction), I feel seen.

Of Eastern European origin, babka is a warm, fudgy loaf of cakey goodness. Put me in a room with 2,000 donuts of every flavor, I won’t be tempted to touch a single one. But leave me alone with a chocolate babka and I will not even pretend to look for a knife and fork.

Like many, I’ve been baking a significant amount throughout the pandemic. I started basic, with the obligatory 32 varieties of banana bread, then I moved on to experimenting with “healthy” and/or vegan desserts. Admittedly, I have neither learned a new language nor made much of a dent in my decluttering project over the past nine months. But my counter is always graced with treats, so I had been pretty satisfied.

That is, until I (late to the game) got sucked into The Great British Baking Show and realized that I am far from a true home baker. Sure, I can follow a recipe. But do I know how long to prove puff versus rough puff pastry? How to achieve the ideal texture for choux buns? The science behind crème pat or mirror glaze?

A resounding no. Because despite the potential delicious payoff, attempting to bake these more complex recipes has overwhelmed me. Flipping through cookbooks or blogs, I’ll be intrigued by delectable sweets, only to be scared off by a recipe’s more-steps-than-I-can-count-on-my-hands instructions. Indeed, baking babka has been deemed “no casual undertaking” by NYT Cooking.

Why does the challenge intimidate me? Would it be so terrible if my dough doesn’t rise and a full day of work gets tossed in the bin?

And, perhaps more importantly, how am I possibly relating a babka recipe to communications?

Words have impact. And the words we choose in our communications have the potential to resonate profoundly with our readers. We can say a bunch of words to fill a page, or we can choose to speak directly to the hearts of our audience.

These days and months are difficult—may we all find inspiration where we least expect it. Thanks to one line from a blogger, I’m off to attempt my first babka.

P.S. Sally’s recipe yields two loaves—she suggests one for yourself and one as a gift. (HA! As if the first one will last 24 hours. But it is *Giving Tuesday, so let’s assume I’ll at least consider it.)

*For real, it is #GivingTuesday. I am grateful to work alongside the philanthropic community and encourage you to support organizations that resonate with you.