This morning, I woke up by myself at about 7:40. I had gone to bed early but decided against setting an alarm, as a weekend treat to myself. That didn't really pan out (get it?) so I decided to make bread.
After going to the dining hall and spilling an entire cup of coffee on myself, then drinking another one, I headed to safeway. I am normally not a morning person, but getting to enjoy the early part of the day of my own volition was beautiful. It helps that it was super sunny, but I think getting up before the rest of the world on the weekend is a lovely feeling.
Baking this bread turned out to be absurdly easy. Maybe because there was no kneading involved. Maybe also because I haven't made bread recently so it was all just a party for me. Seeing it actually start rising was the most exciting part. I felt so accomplished; like I had brought something new and wonderful into the world with nothing but flour, eggs, butter and some yeast.
Once made and sufficiently oggled, I got to cut it up and make french toast out of it. Perfect, Just perfect. And it wasn't even noon yet. I thoroughly enjoyed spending my Sunday morning at the church of bread.
Inspiration from
Smitten Kitchen!
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