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.