Tag Archives: homemade

In my dream blogger world, I would be a fan-freaking-tastic professional athlete that emanates a modest Chrissie Wellington/Kara Goucher vibe (but curses like a sailor), has the cooking prowess of the Pioneer Woman, and has the oh-so-chicness of Emily Shuman of Cupcakes and Cashmere. That’s totally doable, right?

Bahahahahahahahahahaha!

Faking the part and lookin’ all old-timey in my old-timey kitchen. 

But this weekend, I got close to one of those alter-egos by baking something that I can’t stop talking about, let alone eating. Wait for it, wait for it…

I MADE HOMEMADE FREAKING BREAD!

Let me emphasize why this is a big deal: I didn’t grow up in a family that cooked. Instead, I have memories of 10 cent tacos at El Pollo Loco and getting the 5 for $5 Arby’s Roast Beef Sandwiches with my grandma (I would always be the one to eat the extra). The thought of eating bread out of anything than the bag it came in from the grocery store was the stuff of people who had too much time on their hands. My parents owned their own business and worked their asses off – homemade bread was not necessary (or imaginable).

As I got older, and more specifically, as I changed jobs that didn’t suck my life away with a horrendous commute, I’ve been playing in the kitchen. With the party we were hosting Saturday night, I took the leap, stood on my soapbox, smashed down my triton and declared, “I WILL MAKE MY OWN BREAD!”

Inspired by the bread I saw on Hungry Runner Girl, I found the original recipe and concluded that this what not the work of over-achievers, just people who plan. This bread isn’t hard — it’s full of white bread-goodness, it uses the ingredients you likely already have in your pantry, but it takes time. Two hours to let it rise once, then another hour to rise after you’ve braided it.

Long story short: you can totally make this bread and you’ll be glad you did. Just chunk out some time, waft in the homemade bread smell and continually peek through the oven mirror at your glorious creation.

Oh, and don’t forget, when people come over for dinner, pull out the baking sheet and proclaim, “I MADE MOTHER F-ING BREAD!” over and over again like I did.

It’s a magnificent moment.

Or maybe it was all fault of this fresh raspberry mint cocktail.
One of the best I’ve had in a while.