I was lulled, ever so gently, into a false sense of security. You see I made chocolate chip cookies. They were delicious. AB even commented that he didn't know why I didn't make them more often and told Leif they were going to have to make me make another batch.
I blame them. It is their fault and their inhaling of my chocolate chip cookies that made me think that baking bread was a good idea. In one of my magazines recently they showed a picture of a tangy sourdough loaf filled with decadent chocolate chunks. Ok, so I knew I needed to master the sourdough loaf first before the addition of dark chocolate.
The recipe was easy enough and I have good starter in my fridge (we have been enjoying sourdough pancakes about every other weekend). It's that yeast addition thing in baking that just KILLS me. Absolutely kills me.
Thankfully I had some raising effect throughout the.entire.day due to the sourdough.
AB has been good at humoring me. "Mmm, this is good bread," he announced before dinner while trying to chew a slice. (I rolled my eyes at him.) We had decided to have baked rigatoni so we could have fresh garlic bread with it. We didn't even make garlic bread. Why ruin the meal of baked rigatoni?
The round loaf resembles a hockey puck in consistency and likely durability. The long French loaf probably has that same hollow echoing crack as a baseball bat when used for the same purpose.
Yeast is hereby banned from my kitchen.
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