My husband grew up with a mom who is an amazing cook. Every single job she ever had was centered around cooking and/or baking. It is slightly intimidating.
However, my husband is incredible about the whole cooking thing. He is willing to try just about anything, will eat just about anything, and doesn't complain when there isn't anything to eat. Considering how spoiled he was with yummy food growing up, he really puts up with me rather well.
It's not that I can't cook. It's not that I don't cook. It's just that I don't really love to cook. Therefore, it is not always my top priority.
The one thing that drives me into the kitchen is the health factor of 'from scratch' foods vs. store bought, packaged, and processed food.
In a perfect world, I prefer my bread ingredients be this:
Whole Wheat Flour, water, yeast, honey, salt, coconut oil.
Instead of this:
Enriched Wheat Flour (Flour, Malted Barley Flour, Niacin, Reduced Iron, Thiamin Mononitrate, Riboflavin, Folic Acid), Water, High Fructose Corn Syrup, Yeast, Contains 2% Or Less of The Following: Salt, Soybean Oil, Defatted Soy Flour, Mono- And Diglycerides, Calcium Propionate (A Preservative). Sodium Stearoyl Lactylate, Calcium Sulfate, Sugar, Ammonium Sulfate, Monocalcium Phosphate, Wheat Starch, Ascorbic Acid Added As A Dough Conditioner, Calcium Peroxide, Enzymes, Azodicarbonamide, Soy Lecithin.
My perfect world does not exist often.
Today, however, my husband made a rare request. He asked for homemade bread.
Since I have been making a concerted effort to "eat clean" this year (all 12 days of it) and avoid as much processing and preservatives as possible, I said OK.
Bad move.
I
The "CLUNK, CLUNK, CLUNKING" meant only one thing. I would be kneading this bread by hand.
This did not thrill me, but did not panic me greatly, so I started the kneading process.
About a minute into it, I glanced over and saw my measuring cup of oil sitting there. Full.
At that point, I probably should have just thrown the dough in the trash and told my husband it just wasn't meant to be. But the small chance that I could still salvage homemade bread out of the deal was enough for me to attempt to knead in the oil.
By the way, 'knead in the oil' is not a well known cooking phrase for a reason.
While the bread was baking, I told my husband about the fiasco. His very sympathetic response went something like this, "You better hope this isn't the best bread you've ever made, or we'll want you to do it like that every time."
Then he walked over to the KithenAid and fixed it in about 15 seconds flat.
He's just lucky I love homemade bread too much to burn it to a crisp.
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