approximately 10 days ago, our dear, incredibly awesome cook of a friend over at High Heels in the Kitchen (a.k.a. croftie—and yes, this entire post is intended to say, hey world, CROFTIE HAS A BLOG!!!) bread bombed me.
upon requesting a borrowed dvd, it was returned with a ziploc bag of what appeared to be sheep fat.
upon closer examination, it wasn’t. it was the end result of croftie’s ongoing experiments in amish friendship bread. a taped note explained this and outlined a ten-day plan that would result in The Best Bread Ever.
there was an era of really good bread in my youth. when my mum had gotten her first bread machine and, courtesy of kitchen aid, inherited a trove of recipes for breads we had never known. this lasted for about a minute- or at least until we all gained 10 pounds- then we got “healthy” and suddenly everything was filled with grains and rice and dried vegetables and the dessert breads disappeared from the table as fast as they had arrived, so that in my memory they’re combined into this lone loaf of pumpkin-banana-chocolate chip-cranberry-lemon poppyseed wonder. which, come to think of it, doesn’t really sound so wonderful, but in my head it is the bread of the gods.
so because i have this history with bread, i gave croftie’s amish friendship bread a go. that and 8 of the 10 days were simply “mash the bag,” and even i—a baker with an emotional inability to include all ingredients— can mash a bag.
what i had not quite counted on was this—that day 9 would fall on friday. not only friday the 13th but an NC friday.
in my enthusiasm, the thought had been, how irresistibly sexy will it be when i commemorate the day of love by leaping from the bed scantily clad and baking amish bread? if i had any sense, i would’ve had the wherewithal to focus on the real question, how the hell will i cart a bag of festering yeast through o'hare security?