No, this is not an announcement. My recent hormonal rantings have nothing to do with a pregnancy--my husband won't allow it because he hates me (just kidding...about the hating part. He really won't let me have another baby).
This is all about bread, because yesterday I baked THE BEST FRENCH BREAD I HAVE EVER MADE.
No big deal, right?
Wrong.
Before we moved to England, I used to make home-made French bread about once a fortnight. It was good, too. I got the recipe from a vintage (old) Betty Crocker cookbook, and it turned out nearly perfect every time. Then I moved over here, and it's like my baking skills flew out the window. I even got the old recipe off my lovely sister who has all my stuff, thinking that my recipe I was using over here was just pants. But no, it was me.
I got a bread maker off Freecycle a couple of years ago, and that has been good. But I really enjoy baking bread because the process is nice, not just for the bread. Plus, hand made tastes better. Maybe it's because of the dirt on your hands while you knead it?
Anyway, I haven't given bread a go since before Dylan was born. Actually, I think the last bread I made was the November before he was conceived. How weird is that, that I remember my last loaf of bread with that much accuracy? I also recall that it was chili and goat's cheese flatbread in the shape of a leaf.
Part of me has been worried about having to stop in the middle of mixing and kneading to wipe a bottom, clean up a spill, or break up a fight. Part of me has just been unwilling to try again since I had been failing so miserably before.
Yesterday, while Dylan was at school, I asked Edith if she wanted to make some bread with me. She said yes, because she loves helping me cook. I was making beef stew, and wanted some crusty French bread to go with it. So while the beef was simmering in stock with onions, garlic, crushed mustard seed, bay, and fenugreek, Edith and I started mixing.
I remembered reading a tip on breadmaking a few months ago. This baker said that you would reach a point during the kneading process when the dough would feel too sticky and you would be tempted to add more flour, but you should not. Just keep kneading and it will come out right. Add more flour and your bread will be heavy. I took the advice, and the bread was nearly perfect.
Though, in the spirit of humility, probably not as good as someone else's would have been.
Anyway, it must have been good. Edith ate about half a loaf of it on her own. Of the two loaves I baked yesterday, there is only 1/2 a loaf left.
Edith and I both had a good time, and I am sensing many happy bread making days to come. I might even try my hand at sourdough, since I am always interested in being able to survive if civilization as we know it were to end tomorrow. No more yeast, no more baking powder (unless someone can tell me how to make your own?)--sourdough is it, man.
