Yield!

And so the great excercise in denial begins. The yeast – innocent, foamy, yet so sinister. It calls out from its infancy, saying, “eat me!” We also can’t manage to take the in-between pictures of the baking process, because we’re really not all that experienced at food blogging, and, frankly, are really into baking. So look at the yeast … and imagine it being combined with various flours (some wheat, some not), various fibers, some sweet stuff, and a wee bit of salt. Then imagine it all being kneaded, allowed to rise, kneaded again, formed, rising again and being baked.

And, as you can see, we listen to the cries of the yeast; we bake lovely loaves, and can’t resist eating them prior to any art shots.

It’s quite theraputic to look at the kitchenaid paddle going ’round and ’round. It’s also quite relaxing to have one’s spouse sitting amidst a pile of newspapers (a week’s worth, if I’m estimating properly), catching up on all of the neglected information.

What’s even more theraputic is to have waited all night long for the loaves to have really set, and then making that first cut with the slicer, after estimating (by weight of the loaves) how thick the slices should be … and then tucking each loaf into its own zip-top bag for sharing, refrigerating, and generally flinging away … to tempt someone else.

Yes. To know that a) the stick of butter you’ve had sitting in the fridge has long since gone rancid, b) you have exactly 1 teaspoon of peanut butter left, c) you have no cream cheese, d) you used all of the non-crystallized honey in making the bread, and e) it is not really a good thing to make a trip to the market just to indulge in bread, unless you plan on really indulging in bread … these things are not theraputic.

The Romans used Ostritch Feathers, I’m told. Sigh. Spin Class will have to do.

One Reply to “Yield!”

  1. Ostrich feathers… water aerobics… something…

    It’s SO tasty!!! And I look forward to tomorrow night’s happy experiment in sourdough.

    What price self-control!?

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