her able hands

I had to leave the kids at home all day yesterday to enjoy the snow while I went to work, but I did leave an hour early so I could come home and play in it with Lila before I went to yoga. Only problem with that plan was I didn’t pay attention to the time because we were having so much fun and I missed my class.

Chris had come home at lunchtime and took Lila outside to make a snowman. Or, actually, a snowgirl who does not have a name. “No. She’s just a snowgirl. She doesn’t need a name.” And she also does not have a photo because I was too busy taking pictures of the real snow girl…

and of the property…

and of trees…this is the Christmas tree that has yet to be planted. It’s stuck down into the middle of our big leaf mulch pile, where hopefully the root ball is protected enough to keep it viable until the ground thaws.

By the time I got home, the temperature was dropping about a degree every ten minutes, from 34 down to 20 and the snow went from wet and heavy to powder. The sky took on that icy glare that hurts to look at and the snow kept coming down. It looks like we got about a foot total, the first real significant snow we’ve had all winter.

While dressing yesterday morning Lila said, apropos of nothing, “Freemember how in the summertime when sometimes I go outside and it’s too hot to move? And so I just stand there and the sun is so hot that I can’t do anyfing? Freemember that? I wish it was hot right now.”

You and me both, kiddo. Even while I relish the wintry wonderful because we haven’t had much of it until now, I’m also looking forward to long, slow meals on the front porch with the warm glow of the string lights and the choral chirp of the crickets, something jazzy, soft and low on the stereo, humming through the open windows.

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If you’ve always wanted to try making your own bread, but worry it will come out like a brick or a hockey puck—this is your bread. If you don’t have the time and/or energy it takes to make beautiful artisan loaves like you can buy at the local bakery (some of those recipes take 3-4 days), but really wish you did because it chaps your hide to pay $6 for something you know you ought to be able to make in your own damn kitchen—this is your bread.

I used to bake artisan breads every week when I was home with the kids, but have only attempted it twice since I went back to work. I’ve missed having that in my life but there are only so many available hours away from the cubicle, and as you can probably see, I’ve been a bit cupcake obsessed lately. Both times I committed to the 3-day process and made the incredible Rosemary Olive Oil breads from my Amy’s Bread cookbook, the loaves came out stunning and I thoroughly enjoyed the process from the first mixing of the sponge, to tipping the loaves to knock on the bottom to see if they were ready. It made me feel connected to my food in that special way that I believed only a long, slow process can do. Well, that’s what I used to think.

Now I know that the long, slow process can happen with fewer steps—with steps so few as a matter of fact, that anyone and everyone should be able to find time to put a fresh loaf on the table once a week—and still turn out a most amazing loaf of bread with a chewy, flaky crust and large air bubbles and a beautiful crumb.

Now, I used a mix of whole wheat and unbleached white organic flours and let it sit on the counter for 22 hours, but my kitchen was cold. I never have it up to 70º unless I’m already in there cooking, so I don’t think it ever got quite warm enough. The 2-hour rise in the floured towels did not produce a tall puff so much as a wide, low one, but the dough had very good spring, so I gave it an extra half-hour while the dutch oven warmed, then dumped it in and hoped for the best. The fragrance of freshly baked bread may even top my love for the smell of melted chocolate. The finished loaf, as you can see, came out a little flat, but it did puff up in the oven some, and really, it didn’t seem to effect the flavor at all. It had a slightly sour aftertaste, and the crust was rich and chewy with bits of cornmeal baked into it, the air pockets were shiny from the stretched gluten and they made the perfect little spoons for sopping up extra sauce.

We tucked into that loaf with the ragú (which blew my mind, again with the slow process cooking, so very, very good) and a green salad with honey mustard dressing for our Sunday dinner, and it was heavenly. Chris’ mom joined us and we sat at the dining room table (which hasn’t happened in a while because we’ve been piling things in there while we work on other areas of the house) and it made me so happy to have everyone facing each other. To have conversation. To see my family’s faces while they ate, the happy little noises everyone made as they tasted each thing (though Lila emphatically did not like the salad dressing because it was too spicy).

So seriously, try this bread. It’s well worth the effort, and as Sandra said in the comments on Saturday’s post, making it made her feel like a real baker. And if you’re interested in a most excellent online source for all things bread, do go and check out The Fresh Loaf.

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Yesterday was all about the sweetness. I spent the day in the kitchen while Chris worked on boxes of stuff in the basement, sorting and filing and throwing away. Lila floated between the two of us, helping me mix cupcakes, then running upstairs with photos and other finds to share. “Freemember this? When I was in your belly still? Look at how big your tummy is mama!” She wanted to keep that photo of my bare belly right up on the fridge. Uh, no.

Tyler spent the day reading and doing homework and never once asked to get on the computer or to play video games, which was kind of weird, but also very nice to not have that extra vibration going on in the background. Later he went to a friends’ house to play D & D for a few hours (cracks me up kids still play that…I spent so many hours hanging out with the group of kids I was friends with in high school utterly mystified by the whole thing while they gathered hit points and slayed dragons and bludgeoned one another as they tried to fulfill their make-believe quests). I guess I’ve always lacked imagination in that way.

Chris at one point stood in the kitchen while I sifted chocolate, flour, ancho chili powder, cayenne, baking powder and baking soda together. We were talking about getting the light stand finished by next weekend so we can start planting and the sun streamed in the kitchen window and Lila had her arms wrapped around his legs and he said “I really hope this stage of my life lasts a really long time. It’s so good. Everything is so good.”

And I got all teary because he isn’t usually very demonstrative in that way. But I didn’t let any tears drop into the Mexican Hot Chocolate Cupcakes because even though they were tears of happy sweetness (just one or two, really), I don’t want to be working that kind of magic on my office mates, and that’s who the bulk of the cakes are destined for this afternoon. Drumming up business, don’t you know?

I have to tell you, these cupcakes rock the house.

Even Dora thinks so!

The cake came out super moist and the flavor is just so incredible, a sweet, mild chili and rich chocolate with an ever-so-slight, slow after burn. Lila helped me spread the layer of thick ganache, which is spiced lightly with organic cinnamon and then we piped a fat star of very vanilla buttercream (Madagascar Bourbon Vanilla) and topped that with a red hot. Goodness, I wish I could send you one, and you too!

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I had big plans to drag the teenager with me out to Akron to attend the Barack Obama rally this afternoon, but a certain *friend* came to visit and the news reports kept upping the expected number of people going to this thing. First 10K, then 12K, then 15K and last report was 20K or more. Aunt Flo and I would not survive that kind of a crowd, so we’ll be looking for it later on YouTube. Just the parking logistics makes me want to stick my head in the oven.

Speaking of ovens, I’m going to give Jim Lahy’s no-knead bread recipe a try tomorrow because El’s photos made me salivate. Just look at the texture she achieved with her bread, the surface is so gorgeous. I’m pairing that with a traditional ragu and a fat salad for Sunday dinner. If I ever get up off of this chair and step away from the heating pad. My lower back has a second degree burn from sitting against it all day.

Did I mention that I have the house to myself right now? The sun is streaming in the windows and my to-do list is a mile long, but I just can’t bring myself to do anything. I’m too spaced out to even sit down and read, but I really should turn off the computer and enjoy the quiet. I wish you could hear how loud my CPU fan is right now. It’s insane. It’s making me insane.

Tomorrow will be much better and I plan to:

• start some seeds (onion, leek, cabbage, broccoli, brussels sprouts, kale, collards and lettuce)
• make some kind of cupcake for dessert
• more laundry
• write a letter
• read up on my baking chemistry

Right now I’m going to go pour myself a glass of wine, slice some cheese and an apple for crackers and start that bread dough so it can do the 18 hour rise.

Also, I’ll give myself a break. So what if it’s sunny? So what if I could/should be doing any one of a thousand things with my free time right now? I’m drained and have a busy week coming up, so it’s a rest and recharge day. It’s only frittered away if I regret it, right? So I won’t.

What are you doing this fine Saturday afternoon?

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One thing I intended to do this winter, but have spent next to no time working on, is learning how to really use my camera. I’ve done a whole lot of link-saving and read plenty of advice, but I haven’t tried any of it out yet. Partly because so much of what I read reminds me that I could use more task-specific lenses than the one that came with the camera. It takes terrible indoor shots unless the sun is blasting through the windows. I’m learning more and more how terrible the shots look when taken with a flash.

Much of what I want to shoot indoors is food and objects or spaces around my home as we make our much-needed improvements. When I cook at night, forget about taking photos of the food. They come out completely washed out by flash or yellowy and out of focus. In other words, not very appetizing.

I bookmarked a bunch of lenses on ebay, but one comes out to the same amount I’m spending on seeds and pear trees. Which is more important? The latter for this month. But maybe in another month or two, when I get a couple more freelance gigs out the door, I’ll invest in lenses; a macro and a wide-angle to start. And I will begin using my tripod (an ancient number Chris picked up at a yard sale ten years ago for two bucks).

I sure wish I had paid attention to the photography/videography class in high school. Although when I look back (I know, it’s a looong way back and I should not trust what I call my memory) but when I look back, I seem to recall that the teacher did not disseminate very much information. We mostly watched videos (it was the very beginning of MTV) and planned out our class credit music video. We did a high school insanity version of Soul Man from the Blues Brothers, set on the auditorium stage, featuring fake horn playing, lip synching and Salvation Army suits that didn’t quite hit the mark. It was terrible. Later, Eric M. and I did our own to that popular Steve Winwood-Chaka Khan song, Higher Love, with me in a really bad dress and giant hat, all back lit projected shadow dancing on the wall. O, high school. I do not miss you. Not at all.

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