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Wednesday, November 23, 2011

I just kneaded...

kaneaded... silent k.... what a whackjob, messing up first graders everywhere.
But upon the advent of my very first solo mission in the bread making department,(once, i made dinner rolls and forgot the salt, aka inedible)  I thought it incumbent upon me to write her up... kanow...

I've plugged the boythree into pbs and I'll see him at lunchtime when the six gets off the bus.  We are on holiday, as of that moment.... and we will have company for dinner tonight in the form of Sistah Anne and she's even going to stay over and the last time she did that was when boy2 was being born.  Its been a while and I'm looking forward to it.  And I've got bread gunk in the crevices of my hand where I washed in a halfassed manner and it smells like heaven. heaven.
there is molasses in this here recipe and its like taking a bath in the smells of my grandmother's house, i tell you. the woman used to make dozens of molasses cookies, dozens and dozens and everyone took a breadbag full for the ride home... and everyone reminded everyone not to eat too many at a time... molasses has its 'effects' on the system, you see...
This weekend I will see all that remain of her spawn, and many of her 17 grandchildren, and theirs...

Random, its true... but I've wanted to make bread for a long time, but thought it too complicated and time-consuming despite overwhelming personal-friend-type evidence to the contrary.  ah. so. Its one of those womanly tasks that nourish the hands of the maker and fill the bodies of the loved.
here we go.  i wait for it to rise, then hit it upside the head a few times and again... kapow.
knead.