Despite the heat yesterday afternoon, I decided to bake bread. Of course, as soon as I had finished making the dough, we were invited out to dinner.
Fortunately bread is very forgiving – I simply brought the dough with me. After letting it rise, I took the minute or so needed to knead it for its second rise; once that happened, I then took another minute or two for loaf shaping and put it on the baking sheet. At that point it was time to head home anyways, and so I drove home with a baking sheet ready to get into the oven.
By the time we arrived home, the loaves just needed to wait for the oven to get to the right temperature. A few well placed artistic slashes later, in they went and one hour later fresh bread was cooling on racks on the counter.
There is just something wonderful about fresh bread.
1 comment:
I used to bake my own bread when I lived in Phoenix and had way too much time on my hands. It's very satisfying, and the scent of fresh bread is one of the world's best fragrances.
Post a Comment