When I decide to do something I like, there is nothing short or quick about taking the plunge. So when it came to capturing my demons in the kitchen, I thought bread would be the best, if tackled first.
Swallowing my hesitation of anything inherently white, I decided to make the first ever bread I baked of white flour. Conspiring with me, as if, this article appeared and convinced me that no weekend would be as good as the next to try my hand at bread.
All ingredients; all proportions and all mixed. But the dough looked decidedly liquid. Way too liquid for me to be comfortable. I shook the bowl and even added some more flour. But it still looked like slurry.
So I promptly took another mixing bowl, and in a nod to my whole grain fetish, mixed oatmeal, wholewheat and white flour. And set that bowl to rise.
By the end of that Saturday afternoon, I was all over Twitter and Facebook, proclaiming my happiness, at having got the first batch of bread out of my psyche, without a scar too many.
Bread. Glorious bread. Now I can even see myself making complicated baguettes and simpler pizza bases. And experimenting with grains. And… sandwiches with homemade bread.. and crackers and pita bread and what nots!
But wait, I still need a proper bread tin, which fits into a proper oven. Never mind. Those, as I learnt, were small details.
All Saturday evening was spent breaking chunks of misshapen loaves and smearing smidgens of jam, cheese spread or chutney over and almost inhaling the chunks. By the next day, there was more bread than place to store it at.
It’s made very often at home and is loved. I make a vegetarian version but with tons of garlic and stove-top, without-any-oil croutons. And this one was extra special, what with croutons made with homemade bread.