Let me start by saying that I love bread! It's said that man cannot live by bread alone, but let me tell you that as a woman, I sure could make a go of it! I remember when my mom used to make bread in the bread machine and this delightful smell would waft through the house. I could hardly wait for it to cool enough to get a bite. Alas, I am my mother's daughter, and there came a day when I would have to try making bread myself. Bread seems like such a complicated and scientific food endeavor. I approached this feat by pulling up my bootstraps (figuratively, as I'm not wearing boots today), doning my cutest apron (from Anthropologie of course), and pulling out the step stool to look for the Bread Machine Cookbook.
Reading through the helpful tips, I started to get a little more freaked out, so I moved on to the actual recipes. The first used dry milk, something I don't have on hand. So I frantically kept flipping....and then I found one! Italian bread.
No dry milk.
I stopped by the grocery store this morning knowing that I was going to be making bread this afternoon. I wasn't sure whether we had bread flour on hand, so I picked a bag up. The only sized bag they had was 5 lbs. I discovered while gathering my ingredients that we, in fact, had a partially used 5 lb. bag at home. My little slip up will lead to lots of doughy, yummy goodness in the weeks to come!
Armed with my ingredients, I called my mom at work. I knew I needed to put the liquid in first, and the yeast in last. I also found out that you have to make a little well into which you put the yeast. Fascinating! I am a woman with a plan. So I boldly declared I'd put the ingredients in and call my mom back. I measured them perfectly, put them in precisely, and dialed the phone.
AAAAAAAAHHH! And then, incoming call. Sigh of relief. I shut the lid, plugged the machine in, and turned it on. Now, the bread is rising in the machine. Soon, I will take it out forming it into clover rolls, and bake it in my own oven. And I will be a happy happy camper.