February 28, 2011

coming soon...

Guess what this is going to turn into:

I'll give you two hints:
  1. It's going to fix my fridge's food waste wagon.
  2. I might have gotten the idea from Lindsay. Possibly. All right, totally.

    food anti-coma

    Sleep? Don't be ridiculous. Sleep is for chumps. We prefer to spend our nights alternately lying wide awake in bed, putting Miss back into her bed, or turning Jr back over after he's gotten himself stuck in his crib upside down and horizontally between the bars.

    Our nighttime activity did result in a few conversational gems, however, like: "There are no dinosaurs in my room", "I'm not scared of crickets", and "what's happening to my green green wall?".

    Since I had so much awake time to have deep thoughts last night, I came to the conclusion that the problem everyone was having was too much good food, a reward I'm almost willing to pay for with a night of sleeplessness.

    A good way to save money on groceries is to get yourself invited over to my parents' house for supper. My mom warned me that it wasn't going to be fancy, and she was right.

    It was extraordinary. Green salad with apple, chickpeas, and red wine croutons...with almond-encrusted toasted goat cheese on top? Ho hum. I eat it every day.

    I wish I ate it every day. And then ginger and some other kind of orange things soup (to be honest, I was still thinking about the salad).

    I started paying attention about halfway through the bowl...and then promptly lost concentration again when I realized that dessert was chocolate with chocolate inside of it. Anything with melty gooey chocolate on the inside of it deserves a better photo than this:

    But, like I said, I was too distracted by the molten chocolate peeking out of the side to worry about light and focus and all that non-chocolate jazz.

    Miss liked it. Are you surprised?

    Guess how much time there was between that picture and this one:

    It helped that by this time she was eating with two spoons. 

    February 27, 2011


    Are you excited yet? Let me show you my favourite picture this time of year:

    Oh, all right. One for you Americans, too...

    Stop laughing. The only thing that's dampening my excitement for tax season is the potential of not being able to see the screen after the next eyeball surgery. So I'm rushing a little to get the whole she-bang done before March 7th. I hate rushing through things I enjoy. Except maple candy.

    My goal this week (in the hopes that telling everyone else about it might make it happen):
    1. Get Mr's business books reconciled and year end reporting done.
    2. Get our taxes done.
    Let's see how that works out, shall we?

    (You want to know how I did? Look at Goooooal! The Sequel.)

    February 26, 2011

    project grocery: too soon to tell


    Still, only $9.41 over budget. I blame cat food and a good sale on detergent. Anything but me, really.

    I suppose it is too soon to see an effect from the trying not to waste food and dump money into the compost every week effort. It would be encouraging though.

    On the good news front, my evil fridge still looks kind of empty, but we have plenty of meals planned for the week. Those zucchini are still lurking in there, along with the blue cheese and some leeks, but I'm going to freeze the leeks, which hopefully will not just put off their eventual waste until a year from now, when I clean out my freezer. Still no ideas for the blue cheese.

    I'd really like to make these for Jr. And Miss, because she'll beg me for some. And, let's face it, me, because I'm always hungry and a sucker for anything potato-based. Except Vichysoisse:
    adventuresindinner said:

    How about some potato cakes (latkes) with carrot and zuchinni grated into them? Our wee one eats them as hand food but they are actually terrific for a side dish and freeze quite well. I often make a big batch and then have them for weekend breakfasts.

    But don't know how to begin....anyone? Bueller?

    February 25, 2011

    200 (non-contiguous) days of eyeball bread

    Another vitrectomy (read: eyeball surgery) in March. So I'm at the opthalmologist today, having loads of fun. Which means I didn't bake this bread this morning:

    Yawn. Another same old bread post. Nothing new to report, I made the same recipe, and this time formed it into a big round boule instead of a little round boule. It tasted the same.

    Boy, I'm even boring myself. Here's a little pick me up:

    That's fresh bread steam you're seeing. And Jr teething that you're hearing. When someone finally invents Wonka-vision, you're going to get to eat it. The bread, not the crying baby.

    And if that wasn't enough to make you happy on eyeball day, then here is the first of many homemade loaves of bread from my little Miss:

    February 24, 2011

    jr the amazing wonder baby

    Has, with the assistance of Cheerios, learned to crawl forwards. Oh dear.

    Has recently taken to salmon (not from a can, Mom). Will not eat egg yolks and gets angry if they are offered. Happiest when playing with (read: chewing on) Miss' Gabey-babies or looking through age-inappropriate books.

    Can act like a grumpy baby when he's growing teeth, but in real life is mostly a round-headed smiling goofball with arms so fat he's got to have some extra joints in there. 

    Like all babies in all places, puts everything in his mouth. Except food. Clearly, one of the deep mysteries of human existence.

    February 23, 2011

    my friend blogher

    Double post today, for those who think that more Mrs is better than less Mrs.

    If that didn't turn you off, it's about cloth diapers and money.

    Ah, I see that scared the rest of you away. This link is just for me then:

    Cloth Diapers...Better Late Than Never?

    the wednesday bookshelf: vocabulary for toddlers

    I get a kick out of hearing Miss say humongous. I can't help it. She learned it from an episode of Sesame Street (of course), and the first time she said it is still one of my favourite memories. We went on to "miniature", "colossal" and "enormous". She still shouts "I had an enormous pee-pee" at least once a week.

    Big, Bigger, Biggest!So when I was at the library and saw Big, Bigger, Biggest! I obviously had to check it out. Any book that promises adjectival competence is worth at least bringing home.

    She's a sponge, right? And a two and a half year old repeating things like "I'm hungriest! I'm insatiable. I'm voracious. I'm rapacious " is pretty cute. A twelve year old using every big word she knows and believing she sounds The. Smartest. is not so cute. I can tell you that from both sides of the audience. So we'll have to dumb Miss down just before she hits precociousness.

    Pete the Cat: I Love My White ShoesAnd - on the topic of toddlers as figurative sponges - I spent ten minutes upstairs yesterday and she spent that whole ten minutes sitting on the bottom step, reciting Pete the Cat, almost word for word. Except for the song, which she inexplicably changed from "I love my white shoes" to "I love my white boobies". Hmm.

    I know I mentioned it before, but it still has such hypnotic powers that starting to recite it can stop Miss mid-meltdown almost every time. Not to shabby for one little book. Eric Litwin might just deserve some kind of award for that kind of power.

    As an embarrassing book-related aside, I finished My Life from Scratch last night and didn't realize until I got to the acknowledgements that it was fiction. Awesome.

    Clearly, my only concern with literature is my own or my daughter's response to it. 

    (Coming eventually: The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales. I'm cackling with anticipation.)

    Also, don't forget: Free (free) shipping. Free.

    The Book Depository

    February 22, 2011

    my evil fridge: it's still evil, but at least it's clean

    Lannis brought up a good point in her comments yesterday: those fridge shelves. They frustrate me so much I need to use an exclamation point. I apologize in advance.

    Those fridge shelves!

    Who made those? Who decided to encapsulate the glass shelfy part with plastic that beet juice could leak into? I'm lookin at you, Lannis. I'm actually giving you the stink eye, right through my computer.

    Being a self-sufficient woman (read: Mr wasn't home and I really wanted to get the fridge cleaned before the kids woke up), I tackled them with the trusty kitchen screwdriver...to no avail. Those screws only keep the brackets on. I was no closer to getting that beet juice out and, even worse, I couldn't figure out how to get them back together. 

    (Hangs her head in shame). 

    After my post went up yesterday I got a lot of good advice for using up the about-to-be-funky stuff in the fridge. Behold the vegetables of my labour:

    I also made Vichysoisse. Mostly just because I like saying it...vishyswaz. Yum.

    Scratch that. Not yum. Unless gloopy blandness is yummy. I'm glad I only have about a cup left of it in the fridge because That. Was. Nasty. Miss, bless her little heart, loved it, so she gets the leftovers. 

    But that means that with all the chopping and freezing and stock reducing and nasty soup making that I'm down to only the beets, zucchini, parsnip and blue cheese and buttermilk. The beets and parsnip I think I'll roast together for a side dish, the zucchini I'll do the same, or else try to figure out an alternative to egg white so I can make these zucchini fries for Jr. I don't know about the buttermilk though...baking?

    So although my evil fridge still squats in the corner and taunts me with next week's food waste, at least I know that right now it's squeaky clean inside and filled only with edible things. Except possibly that blue cheese.

    Also, clearly Mr came home, because the shelves are back, baby.

    February 21, 2011

    project grocery: closing the breakfast book, and wasting food

    Since I was (ahem) out of commission yesterday, Mr went grocery shopping with Jr, and my lovely mom looked after Miss for an hour while I slept blearily on the couch. Awesome.

    And if it weren't for the diapers (I know, should have kept the cloth ones. You can't guilt me more than I guilt myself), we would have been under budget (which we need to be a few weeks in a row - ideally forever - to make up for the wanton excess of the past few weeks). If you don't know what I'm talking about, head over to Project Grocery for a refresher. Alas:

    I guess $8.87 in the grand scheme of things isn't going to be the deciding factor in keeping me home come April, but a whole lot of $8.87s certainly will be.

    We've got the breakfast thing down pat, though, even though Mr still needs a box of cereal from time to time - he came home with Apple Jacks, of all things.  I even went so far as to do the math. But you knew that I would. So follow along: 1/2 cup of Bulk Barn's 12 Grain Cereal costs $0.13 (not on sale) and amply feeds Mr, Miss and I. We'd need at least 3 cups of Cheerios to do the same thing, which costs $0.81 (if you get the 400g box on sale for $3.99). That's a $0.50 difference every meal.

    Less than exciting information for almost everyone else in the world. For me, it tastes like victory. Can't fool me anymore, General Mills. Take that.

    So now that I've conquered breakfast like an invading Viking, on to the next task. The a lot more difficult, sometimes disgusting task. 

    That would be food waste.

    My refrigerator is my enemy. (Except when it's keeping my milk cold and my apples crisp.) It sits hunched in the corner of my kitchen, laughing snidely at me, and in a very quiet grumbly voice says things like "you should have eaten the rest of that nacho dip yesterday...too late now" or "there's cucumber juice in your crisper".

    Eew. Cucumber juice. Hold on, I'm actually going somewhere with this.

    I am a serial food murderer. I let more food leave my house in a trash can than a sane person should (although if I think my fridge is taunting me, maybe we can loosen the definition of sane a little?). So if I really want to trim the grocery budget, maybe eating the food I have before it goes bad in my evil fridge might be a good habit to develop.

    Therefore, in the interest of embarrassing myself further, and unashamedly in the style of Kristen at The Frugal Girl, I cleaned out my fridge. And took pictures. Feel free to look away.

    Oh, cuss word! See what I mean about my evil fridge? (Also, as a complete side note, see the delicious maple syrup up there on the left? Want to make some maple candy?)

    I can't (won't) calculate the dollar value of all this, but it looks like a lot. And, at the very same time, looks like something I'd pay someone else to take away. Funny.

    If you're wondering (and not barfing), there's sour cream, cottage cheese, tomato sauce, leftover risotto, chickpeas, taco dip, funky broccoli...well, the list goes on.  That all went into the compost or trash or recycling or wherever bad foods go.

    And I still have this whole pile of food that's just about to be waste...unless I can think of something to do with it this week (want to help?):

    I already used one of the carrots, one bunch of flappy celery, some leeks and the onion by making stock with the chicken carcass I had in the freezer. Nothing makes me feel more virtuous than making chicken stock. And nothing makes me feel more icky than saying "frozen chicken carcass". Eew (again).

    I'm also not too worried about the other two carrots - we can snack on those - and I rescued the grapes already by picking through them and washing them, so we'll snack on those too. (Another eew: "picking through". Gross.)

    Which leaves me with 3 beets, 1 bunch of flappy celery, 2 zucchinis, 1 parsnip, 3/4 of a green pepper that Miss doesn't like this week for some reason), a smidge of blue cheese - let's call it a tablespoon - 1/2 an onion, 1/2  a bunch of rosemary, 1 bunch of parsley (less only a few sprigs), and 3/4 of a bunch of leeks. 

    Phew. Somehow I'm going to try to use it all up before my fridge turns it to the dark side.
    Also, it was impossible to take a picture of this food without Miss' hand in it. Let me demonstrate:

    (Triple points if you can find her hand in the first picture).

    February 20, 2011


    Yes, I spent all day lying on the couch, recovering from spending all night barfing on the toilet.


    Back tomorrow, with a Project Grocery that I didn't have anything to do with, except for weakly directing it from what felt like my death bed.

    (Can you see my arm dramatically thrown across my forehead?)

    February 19, 2011

    a***san bread and bell canada

    Yesterday, Miss met the face of Bell Canada for the first time, and unlike most of the rest of Canada, for her it was love at first sight.

    Gray Poppy (I don't know either) and Mister Steve spent altogether only an hour or so in our house, but Miss was smitten. I doubt that any Bell Canada representative ever has had the enthusiastic response she gave these two guys. Partway through his work she even threw herself at Mister Steve and told him she loved him. Cute and creepy, all rolled into one tiny(ish) little Miss ball.

    And what's any bread loving Mrs going to do with herself when she's got to keep the overly-affectionate-with-strangers toddler busy? She bakes bread, of course. And lets Miss help. (Which, if you've read the toddler lexicon, means "lets Miss eat flour".)

    Rolls were on the agenda, and I have to admit, I cheated a little, and not just with the actual recipe, since that's been changed for good. No, I didn't want to mess with the cornmeal and trying to slide six rolls onto a hot baking stone. The idea was to keep Miss busy, not fill the bottom of my oven with burned dough, you see. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, head on over to Proof of Bread. Go ahead, I'll wait...)

    So I baked them on (gasp) parchment paper on a cookie sheet. And they were still carbalicious. So there, Fast and Easy. I made you faster and easier (maniacal laughter).

    Meanwhile, on the toddler side of the kitchen:

    I had every intention of baking whatever it was she was creating, but she demanded that I leave it. Exactly. As. It. Was. So:

    Eeyore was somehow integral to the process.

    I love her pudgy little hands. And her weird little mind.


    Note: Apologies for the lateness of today's post. Saturdays and Sundays I don't get up before the rest of the world, and rarely get time to computerize, or blogger-cize, or whatever.

    February 18, 2011

    maple candy - the recipe (and double exclamation points)

    Rebecca and Rhonda, this is for you. The recipe for Mr's pure maple candy is super complicated, so you'll want to print this out and study it for a few days before you attempt it.

    You'll also need some special equipment, to wit:
    • One (1) candy thermometer
    • Two (2) trays of candy molds, whatever shape you like.
    • One (1) human tongue (attached)
    • Nine thousand (9000) tastebuds

    Okay. Now that you're back from shopping, take some pure maple syrup. Any amount really, although Mr usually uses about two cups.

    Put it in a pan, stick the candy thermometer in it, and boil it over medium-high until it reaches 235 degrees Fahrenheit. Stir it occasionally while it boils, but don't scrape down the sides of the pan, and avoid the temptation to stick your finger in it. It will hurt.

    In case you forgot, this is what it will tempt you with as it boils:


    Once it reaches 235, remove it from the heat (but not the pan) and let it cool until it hits 175 degrees. This takes an agonizingly long time. Or about ten minutes. It all depends on how much you like maple candy, really.

    Stir the syrup rapidly with wooden spoon for about five minutes. Mr says this part is tricky (for real this time), because you stir it until "it changes to a lighter colour, and gets thicker and creamier". Vague, right? If you don't stir it long enough it won't set and be a sticky, taffy like mess. But if you stir it too long it will set too fast and never come out of the pan. 

    Good news, though. It still tastes good no matter how it turns out. Plus, if it doesn't turn out the first time, you have the added bonus of having to make it again, just to get it right.

    Once you've done your not too much and not too little stirring, pour the candy in to the molds and let it set. Or eat it right away and burn your tongue off with deliciousness. Whatever. He says you can store it in an airtight container for up to a month, but due to circumstances beyond my control we've never tried it. Let me know if you do and I'll come over and take care of that excess maple candy problem you seem to be suffering through.

    Here's Mr, posing at making maple candy because I made him. Can you see the irritation lines coming off of him? Hee hee, so cute.

    Now go forth, and show that maple syrup who's boss.


    February 17, 2011

    mrs optimum points

    On the weekend, our local drugstore (read national chain Shopper's Drug Mart) demanded that I spend 40,000 Optimum points.  Demanded even.

    They tried to be polite about it. They offered an extra redemption level and extra point value.

    So I caved.

    No really, that's what it felt like. I'm such a hoarder of things like candy, store points and Diet Coke, and they are such a HUGE company that it felt like they won when I bought their merchandise during their promotion.


    Not so icky, though, is the fact that I spent $17.77 ($12.38 of which was sales tax) and brought home all this:

    Not pictured: even more boxes of tissue. A ridiculous amount of tissue.

     My cheap soul is still hunched over her steepled fingers, cackling. My regular soul still feels like some kind of a chump for playing the game.

    February 16, 2011

    the wednesday bookshelf: food from the sky

    Our friend Lannis (she of the marble run), mentioned The Suck Fairy to me a while ago, and while I'm familiar with the phenomenon, I didn't know that she had a name.

    She does. You can read more about her in Jo Walton's post on Tor.com. If you don't want to go to the trouble, let me quote the most relevant part:
    The Suck Fairy comes in when you come back to a book that you liked when you read it before, and on re-reading—well, it sucks.
    Alas, I cannot blame The Suck Fairy from ruthlessly sucking my enjoyment out of Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs. I can blame her close relative (possibly her slightly less hip twin sister), The 137th Re-read to a Toddler Fairy.

    Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs Re-read (as I like to call her, since we know each other so well) has powers that vary depending on the strength of the book in question. I never thought she'd be able to cast her diabolical spell over this book, but she's gone and done it.

    I remember haplessly looking for Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs while still (very) childless. I was that customer in the bookstore - the one that remembers only "There was food falling from the sky? You know?" when describing it to multiple - and often equally hapless - bookstore employees. But the call of this book was so strong that I pursued it over the span of a few years. When I finally got my hands on it (and this is really important) it didn't suck.

    The story was still great. Food falls from the sky in the town of Chewandswallow, and then the weather takes a turn for the worse. I was still intrigued, and I still wanted to live there. How could I fail to be entertained?

    By reading it 137 times, that's how. By read 75 or thereabouts, I was already annoyed with the fact that Chewandswallow only has 300 residents, but has the main street of a town with a population of 10,000. By read 114, I started skipping the framing story altogether.

    And here, at 137, I can assure you that I never want to look at this book ever again.

    Ever. Again.

    Nevertheless, I will recommend this book to you. Despite the fact that they made it into a movie (book snob!), it is still worth getting, but only if you can get it without the movie poster on the front of it.

    Just don't read it 137 times, that's all.

    February 15, 2011

    it took all morning to clean up, but it was worth it

     If your kitchen counter (and stove and other counter and island and other counter) is covered with every pot and pan you own, as well as cocoa powder, shaved zucchini, chocolate ganache dribbles, and balsamic reduction spatters...

    ...then yesterday might have been Shmalentine's Day, you might have eaten Ribeye on top of Leek Risotto with some stuff in between, had Molten Chocolate Cakes for dessert, and been too lazy and full of good food and wine to clean up the kitchen.

    February 14, 2011

    burf-day presents

    No post yesterday. I was busy being burf-dayed. For said birthday, I got some awesome things.

    Like - for instance - this conversation, as Miss was crawling into bed with me at 7:30, poop smell and all, and Mr was trying to take her downstairs so I could "sleep in":
    Mr: Okay, time to go downstairs.

    Miss: No, I want to sleep in bed with Mommy. Go away to the floor.

    Mrs: Did you know we're having a Happy Birthday Party today?

    Miss: Yes. It smells like it. It's pink.

    Mrs: It smells like pink?

    Miss: Yes.
    Or this: the way Jr smiled at me when I finally (ten minutes later) came downstairs. Like the sun had risen, right there on our landing. It's not too bad a feeling, being someone's personal sunshine.

    Another gift I received today? Mr shaved his face. It doesn't happen often, because he hates it. I knew something was up when he came downstairs and I could hear Miss in the living room talking about her New New Daddy. And later: "I love you, New Daddy", and "I did a pee-pee, New Daddy".

    And then later in the drug store, looking up at the ceiling while the PA system blared something, Miss said, "Thank you, other Mommy up there".

    Today has been a day that I've been freed from the responsibility of food and diapers and cleaning...and since I don't have to do it, am finding more enjoyment than usual in food and diapers and cleaning.

    Possibly not the diapers.

    That cake up there? The beautiful one? It used to be my Every Birthday Cake. One of the only good things to come out of the fact that I now have an ex-sister-in-law is that with her and her nut allergy gone, I get to have Filbert Torte again.

    I promise it wasn't the first thing I thought about when I found out.

    I've gotten some interesting things today. Like a lovely drawing from Miss that I'm looking at right now. It's hard not to look at it when I'm at the computer, since it's on the screen.

    Awesome.  Still, though...Best. Burfday. Ever.

    February 12, 2011

    project grocery

    You know how you decide to do something, and you only have so much time to do it in, and you realize before you start that you left it too late and it's a total mistake to keep going, but you do it anyway, and it doesn't turn out well?

    So no need for an update on the grocery shopping this week, right?

    Oh boy. $192.28. Can I blame this on my birthday party tomorrow and those pernicious Pull-Ups? Also on the Valentine's Day steak?
    Digression: Nothing says romance like almost raw meat. At least to this couple. We're putting Jr and Miss to bed early, after feeding them some non-steak, and we're having Rib-Eye Risotto.

    Mr made it up after I had Jr and our midwife said I needed more iron, so naturally he thought of red meat and beet greens. The only difference on Monday night will be that I'm in charge of the risotto part. Gulp. Digression over.
    Yes, we buy things on sale. Yes, we use pathetic Canadian coupons. We check unit prices and buy in bulk when it's something we know we'll use. We even used to carry a calculator around the store, which I'm really close to doing again. 

    I'm going to close my eyes and dream of steak, and maybe this will all go away.

    February 11, 2011

    blogging awesomeness

    I'm posting about what I'm doing right now over at BlogHer today. It's stealth blogging, and I've got to work fast.

    One of the reasons I'm trying to get up earlier than everyone else (and be vewy, vewy quiet) is so I can read my list of blog subscriptions, coffee in hand, without guilt. Also without Miss on my lap, demanding Facebook videos of her friend Clebby, trying to press the keys without me seeing her do it, and pushing her finger into the screen up to her pudgy little knuckle.

    So here's the annotated list of what RSS feeds I'm checking this morning (and realizing that no one else is up...or at least, no one else is up and blogging yet):

    The Frugal Girl
    When I came across Kristen's blog I read every post. In order. Since July 2008. Do you see the order of magnitude that is my problem? But she's consistently cheerful, often funny...and a baker. A bread baker, to be specific. And she's cheap - I mean, frugal. Obviously. From her I got Cinnamon Swirl Bread, a cold(er) house and new slippers (for a warmer feeling house).

    This can't be news. Molly writes about food in a way that's more delicious than actually eating. And takes pictures. Of food. Surely you've been there already. All the posts are good. Go.

    The Lazy Christian
    If you're still here after my orders to leave, then bless your heart. And bless Rachel's too, because she can write about serious stuff without taking herself too seriously. A rare commodity. I'm not blessed with the gift of expressing myself when it really counts, but Rachel is. I haven't made it all the way through yet, but my all time favourite post (so far) has got to be Got Faith?

    Inklings Paperie
    I've already posted about my friend Lindsay's design and paper goods blog, but it deserves another mention. Because It. Is. Beautiful. And inspiring, although if you've looked at my felt food recently, you'll know that I am un-blessed with the necessary coordination to make pretty things with my hands. If I were so inclined, I'd make this menu board. Because I like lists, and pretty lists are even better.

    Flathead Mama
    I came across Rebecca at Flathead Mama through work that I do for my dad at Christian Coaches Network. She's new too. She likes butter. She is in the middle of toilet training her daughter. Butter and potties, that's how we connect.

    Poppy the Blog
    My newest blog crush (that has now advanced to serious commitment) is Rachel's. She's funny. I obviously like funny. She has the same gift that the other Rachel has, of being hilariously serious or seriously hilarious, depending on the topic. She's in the middle of a series of posts called Rachelness. Go read them too. (I'm bossy in the morning.)

    Cook the Story
    Christine at Cook the Story says it best: "Stories that make you drool are better than those that don't". She's a fellow Canadian (bonus points to her and Lindsay) who is great at planning ahead, so I always know what I'm about to drool over. There's a fantastic post about food memories with her Gee Gee that reminded me of my Grandpa. And what first drew me to her blog was her post about what she plans for when her husband's not at home.

    Oh yes, and I'm writing this at 9:30. Because stealth blogging does not work. Apparently I emit quantum particles  - awakeons, for the scientifically minded - that wake them up exactly twenty minutes after I get up. Even if it's six twenty in the morning.

    February 10, 2011

    the bread that shall not be named: recipe three

    Still no suitable alternative to "artisan". Hmmmm...I'm beginning to wonder at your (my) creativity.

    So here's a tip, if you ever find yourself wanting to make anything out of 200 Fast and Easy A***san Breads: Don't listen when the author says you can leave the dough in the fridge for up to nine days. You can't.

    Well, technically you can. But you'll have some funky dough. I baked it anyway. You shouldn't.

    On to recipe three: the batard! (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, head over to Proof of Bread to find out.)

    You may ask, what's the difference between the last recipe (a baguette) and this recipe? And I will answer: I have no idea. Shaped the same, baked the same length of time...is. the. same.


    But due to the Funky Dough issue, I had to make more dough.

    But due to the I Used Up Most of My Flour and Forgot to Buy More issue, I had to halve the master recipe.

    But due to my non-existent math skills (Hello? Bookkeeper? Banker? Why Canada didn't have a bank crisis wasn't me), I used less yeast and salt than it asked for.

    And it turned out. Awesome. It turned out better than awesome. If you remember from the first time I mixed up the master recipe, it was too salty and too yeasty (and I know I followed the recipe that time).

     This bread was perfect (although clearly not perfectly formed). I wish I were eating some right now...

    (For the super-duper recipe of carbiliciousness that is this crusty french bread, follow me.)