I hadn’t made any in a couple of weeks, I think in part because it’s been so tumultuous here with all the work being done on the house, and strange people in and out all the time, and me exiled to the guest room while my bedroom gets ripped apart and rebuilt. It hasn’t lent itself well to me feeling very settled in my own space, which, being the cave troll that I am, seems to be a prerequisite for anything like making bread. But today I decided “screw it,” and along with doing laundry in said aforementioned bedroom, still in its dilapidated state, decided to re-assert my sovereignty and put my oven to work.
That’s two plain-ol’ white bread loaves, and two tomato-parmesan-onion-oregano loaves. I added about a tablespoon of vegetable shortening per loaf this time, which I did on a whim last time I made bread, and it had very pleasing results: an arier texture, and a softer and more bulbous, poofy crust. It’s a win.
The (recurring) moral: make bread. It’s good for you in all kinds of ways. I feel better.