Baking and making bread is one of the simplest, most satisfying pleasures in the world.
Last year I began to challenge my long-held belief that I cannot bake. I made a personal vow to teach myself some very simple baking recipes. True to form that was not enough. Given my frugal ways, I began to take a long hard look at grocery store prices. “Why does fresh pasta and bread cost so much?” I wondered. “And if it costs so much, why is it so often not that tasty?” I decided to try my hand at making my own, and made the resolution that this year I wouldn’t buy any bread or pasta.
My pasta adventures are coming along. With proficiency in basic egg pasta dough, I’ve moved on to incorporating ingredients like spinach, beets, and carrots to create healthier options. (More on that in a future post.) It was easier for me to start with pasta because it’s so logical: mound the flour and add the eggs, salt, olive oil, milk, and a dash of cinnamon (yes, cinnamon!) to a well in the center of the flour. Knead, roll, cut, shape, boil, eat. There’s a lot of tinkering in pasta making and I love to tinker.
Bread baking? That’s a different story because the baker has so little control. The ingredients must be measured precisely and then the baker has to walk away, exhibiting extreme patience. 18 hours of patience, to be precise. The flour, yeast, warm water, and salt do some type of magic rising dance and voila – dough, ready for the super hot oven! Baking is an act of trust and faith in something that we cannot manipulate. The yeast and heat from the oven must be allowed to do what it does best all on its own, without our assistance.
But oh, the final result is well worth it. I used this bread recipe, followed it to the letter, and literally ooo’ed and ahh’ed over the result. Thick, golden crust and a moist, chewy interior. Slathered with butter and 3 berry jam, along with a mug of green peppermint tea, it was the perfect way to begin my Sunday morning.
No more store-bought bread for me. I’m a baker.
Christa Avampato 