My Terrible Bread

I am a bread-making novice.   You’d think it would be easy these days to make bread and get it right, what with all I have at my disposal.   First, there’s the bread making machine my husband got a few years ago.   Second, there’s the bread machine recipe book that gives me exact instructions on how to make bread.    Third, there is the vast and comprehensive resource known as the World Wide Web where I should be able to learn all I need to know about making scrumptious loaves of bread.    And yet, I don’t seem to be getting it totally right yet.

I suppose I’ve been unjust in my title of this post because my breads aren’t really “terrible”—aside from that one loaf with the self-rising instead of the regular flour.   It’s just that I seem to find my loaves largely eaten mostly by me in our household.   I’ve had issues with yeast.   There was the out of date bread flour (or at least that’s what I’m guessing it was) and then there’s the matter of substitutions.   That part I can take full blame for.  Whole wheat flour instead of white flour?  Sure, let’s give it a try.   Don’t have that minor ingredient?  Not to worry, we’ll just leave it out; I read online it wasn’t really necessary.

But no more!  As of this evening I am in possession of the definitive book on making great bread.   Uncle Bob, knowing I was looking for bread-making guidance sent me an early birthday present.

Now as soon as I finish my last loaf (probably by myself) I’m making bread the whole family is going to love.  Thanks, Uncle Bob.

The Big Boy Update:  My parents took my son to his favorite sushi and Thai restaurant last night.   My mother asked him what he wanted to eat and he said, “what I usually get.”   This posed a problem because Mimi didn’t know what his usual order was.   When the waitress arrived my mother talked to her about the children’s options.   When the waitress said, “chicken teriyaki” my son cried out, “that’s it, that’s what my mom orders for me!”

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   My daughter was tired tonight before bath and bed.   She and her brother were playing in the basement and we heard an altercation.   She cried out and then began to cry very loudly.   We listened and figured she was upset.   My son came up shortly and told us they had bumped and she was upset and that it was an accident that he bumped her.   I went downstairs to find her with a blanket over her head crying.   When I pulled the blanket off I saw blood on her face.   She had gotten a bloody lip and hadn’t come to find us.   We got her an ice pack and she decided she was ready to go back to playing with her brother about two minutes later.     She is pretty tough some days.