Making Bread = Therapy
The rest of our stuff is here in Oklahoma. I’ve been reunited with the Dyson, Weston’s crib (converted to a toddler bed), and many more items that were missed greatly over the past four months. The little guy enjoyed watching the unloading of the relocation cubes. Good times.
Like the drought-induced lawn?
I didn’t think so.
In honor of having the rest of my kitchen supplies, I thought I would discuss homemade bread. And how making it has become my therapy. Over the past months, I’ve come to the conclusion that I do not really like store-bought bread. If it is from a bakery within a store, that is a different story. But as far as regular sandwich making, french toast eating, slathered with butter goodness bread, the pre-sliced plastic wrapped stuff in the store just doesn’t cut it anymore. I’ve spoiled myself with handmade bread and I can’t go back. I just can’t. I am now a flour covered, knuckled kneading, unapologetic bread maker. And I love it. Having an electric bread maker has never appealed to me. Maybe it is because I truly enjoy kneading dough over and over and watching the rising process, which never fails to amaze me. I couldn’t help but take pictures of the magic…
Which is oiler? This dough ball or The Situation?
This was fun to punch down.
I mixed it up and made a regular loaf and a flatter(?) loaf to use for bruschetta.
The bread was delicious.
Melt in ya mouth delicious.
And here is the bread in action with pepper turkey, colby jack cheese, lettuce, tomato, and onion.
I used Simple Whole Wheat Bread on allrecipes.com
Do you make your own bread?
Happy Friday. Hip hip hooray – it’s almost the weekend.
P.S. – I painted a stripe in the guest bathroom. Check it out at A Lease to Decorate.