her able hands

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’m flipping gently through the pages of Tried and True Cook Book No. 2, published in 1907 by the Eisele Printing Co. in Cleveland, written by The Ladies of The Miles Avenue Christian Church and Their Friends. The recipes are all written in paragraph format, no ingredients list, most only a few sentences. The pages are peppered with advertisements for local businesses and I’m going to scan some of them in to share with you later, but for now let me share with you my favorite headline: Pianos That Are Trustworthy. I love that!

Here’s my favorite section of the book, the last few pages:

For The Invalid’s Tray

“Simple diet is best, for many dishes bring many diseases.” —Pliny

Toast Water: Toast slightly a piece of bread and add it to boiling water; if preferred, sweeten. It may be flavored with a lemon or orange peel. —R. DeL.

I have never heard of such a remedy for any kind of illness. When I was a kid, the sick bed beverage of both child and parental choice was flat Coca-Cola or ginger ale—Canada Dry preferred. The invalid’s dinner? Lipton’s or Campbell’s chicken noodle soup. Now, of course, I make homemade—even for myself when I’m as sick as a dog and feeling like an invalid. A slow simmered, rich stock and plenty of vegetables is the answer to most ailments, and you can’t get that out of a can. But check this out…

An Invalid’s Dinner: Select a good chop from a loin of mutton and trim all the fat from the meat and put in a covered jar (a salt jar does very well for the purpose) with three tablespoonfuls of water; stand it in a moderately hot oven, steam it one-half hour and a few minutes, before serving add a pinch of salt. Serve very hot, with the gravy poured over it. Steak or chops cooked in this manner are very tender and easily digested by the weak and delicate. —Bertha.

In the confections section, there are six different recipes for something called Sunshine Cake. Some of them have no indication of baking time and require dry ingredients to be sifted five times. Others say bake in a slow oven until done, or in a slow oven for forty five minutes. The baker is directed in one “don’t open and shut the oven door unless necessary. If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”

I suspect these cakes all came out just scrumptious and that they were the pride of these women’s baking repertoire. I’m going to attempt one of them and see if I can surrender to the simplicity of the recipe. I imagine it will force me to pay closer attention as I bake—rather than relying on the detailed instructions I’m used to following, I’ll have to let a little more intuition shine through. I want more play in my life, more fun. And being in northeast Ohio in February—more Sunshine!

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Busyness all weekend (nothing seed or garden related, but I’m out of the self-flagellation business, so we’ll just vett that to next weekend’s to-do list).

Chris surprised me Saturday afternoon by coming home with four new seats for the dining room chairs cut out of 3/8″ plywood. We all got busy taking the nasty covers off.

I was so happy to see that material in the trash. And check out the ugly vinyl underneath. I wonder whose rear ends made it so shiny.

Chris had to use his special pliers to remove the ancient, rusted tacks holding that vinyl in place. Those are working man’s hands, right there.

Lila helped, too. She was in charge of soaping the screws before Chris put them through the seat into the frame. Cheap made in China screws kept snapping off and after the fourth one he decided to put a drop of dish liquid in the hole and on the threads. Problem solved.

I didn’t get any photos of the actual reupholstering process because after an hour of the two of us struggling with one, I got frustrated and decided to go into the kitchen where I don’t have to deal with unfamiliar spatial relationships. I just couldn’t figure out how to fold the fabric without making it all lumpy and backwards and uneven and Chris could see it just fine. Bless him and his eternal patience with me, he just listened as I complained and questioned and pulled out staples and refolded and complained and re-stapled and pulled them out again and threw up my hands and ran upstairs to change because I was sweating so much.

We had dinner plans with Cheril & Greg yesterday and we were in charge of salad and dessert. I made these fantastic dark chocolate cupcakes by Chockylit but without the truffle aspect and I did a ganache glaze and a spritz of vanilla buttercream frosting and shaved dark chocolate curls on top. So basically, I used her cupcake recipe, which was absolutely incredible. So chocolatey and moist. I also added a half teaspoon of pure orange extract and a tablespoon of orange zest to the melted chocolate for the cake. And when I made my ganache, I added three tablespoons of butter to give it that nice shiny glaze.

I read on Chockylit’s site that my overflowing cake cups might have something to do with my oven temp being too low. She recommends preheating the oven to 25º warmer than the baking calls for, then turning it down as soon as you put the cupcakes in. I was very careful to only fill the cups 3/4 full and then tried that with the temperature, and they came out perfect. Psyche!

And look at how pretty they are! I so enjoyed presenting them last night and everyone made happy, yummy dessert sounds as they ate. So good.

So it was a multi-person, multi-tasking kind of day around here yesterday.

While I was busy in the kitchen putting together little love cakes, Chris was busy in the living room making our chairs pretty.

He says he wants to redo the second one from the left, but overall we’re both very happy with the way they came out. We used a thicker piece of foam than one might normally use, but I like the lift. Can’t wait to get that dining room wallpaper stripped off and the room painted next.

Speaking of paint, here’s a shot (crooked, sorry) of the corner where the green meets the red-orange. I’m so happy with this room.

Now we just need some more artwork for the walls. But doesn’t Cathy’s little painting look spectacular against the green?

Happy sigh.

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I made a decision yesterday and it felt so good. It’s a step in the direction of filling my pantry and freezer with my own food. It will cost more money than my original plan, and could be considered the easy way out. But I’ve recently discovered that laziness is the doorway to productivity. Overdoing it on every front simply makes me frozen and unable to accomplish anything all the way, so I’m not going to take the slow route with my vegetable gardens any more.

The lasagna beds didn’t work very well for me last year. They dried out too quickly and don’t even get me started about how much the slugs loved them. So I started these other two big lasagna beds down along the driveway in full sun. Right now they’re just lightly mulched leaves about four inches deep. I still have to order manure and get more straw and pull more leaves down from the piles in the woods, plus mix in some grass clippings with the first few mowings in spring. I also have all of that wonderful chicken poop straw to work with, but think I’ll be adding that to the beds next door.

But I want dirt. I want dirt in that American instant gratification kind of way. I don’t want to wait the few years it takes for the lasagna method to turn into dirt and in the meantime, it’s a crap shoot as to whether I’ve got the right balance, enough materials or the time and patience to deal with figuring it out. The ground is not tillable. It’s heavy yellow cement-like clay with gravel and large shelves of rock. What to do? Well, it occurred to me yesterday that I can have topsoil delivered to the house. I know. Duh. As a matter of fact, a local landscaping company sells topsoil with compost mixed in for vegetable gardens. For about $175 I can get enough to put a six inch layer on top of all of my lasagna beds and have some for the herb garden. So with that and the manure and straw, I’ll have about $250 invested in the garden base. But I’m only spending about $20 on seed this year and then the two pear trees.

Of course, I’m worried about bringing more disease onto the land. If any of you other gardeners have any advice on bringing soil in, I’d sure appreciate it.

And then? When it’s all set up and neatly spread? Then I am going to grow some food, people.

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