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So in my quest to never buy bread at the store again (because I love homemade bread more than just about anything) I’ve spent the last few months mastering the different kinds of bread we use around here. My sourdough has been a hit with everyone, even the pickiest of picky eaters, Jake. My white sandwich bread looks like it came from a store, except it tastes so much heartier. I’m not thrilled with my Italian bread and want to try more recipes, but what I can make now is still damn tasty. English muffins were surprisingly easy. And when I’m feeling very indulgent, sour cream chive potato bread.
So what’s left? Rye. Today I will be testing out a couple of rye recipes. Of course, I have several hours of kitchen cleaning to do first. I wasn’t home much at all this week, and it shows – the only flat surface I could find to take that picture of the flour was on the stove. Every inch of counter and table had something on it.
And of course there’s work to do too, but I’ll be fitting that in between the cleaning and the bread baking. And the bread eating (it’s a hard job, but somebody has to test it). And since I didn’t bike anywhere yesterday, and the turtles are out of turtle food, well, that seems like a good errand to do today. And probably the only reason I will venture out into this stickiness.
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