Bread Baking

19 05 2009

Today I made “Pain de Mariage” which LOOKS like it should mean “Marriage is a Pain” but ACTUALLY means “Wedding Bread”. I made it mostly so I would have something which required a french accent. Some days you just need a french accent…

No, Nick Loux, I am not getting married. At least, I am some day but not today. I hope not anyway since I haven’t been asked out since I was nineteen or twenty and even then it was a really short sixteen year old with delusions of grandeur. So marriage is a no for now.

But I digress.

I like making bread because it creates this little bubble of quiet in my day. You mix the dough, you knead the dough (itself a cathartic experience), then you wait for it to rise. After which you punch it (my favorite part) and it bakes. It’s an uncomplicated process that rewards you with good smells and delicious foods.

But what it REALLY does is force you to stay “stuck” in the kitchen. Someone need you to mow the lawn? “Sorry I can’t, I’m making bread!” Does the bathroom need to be cleaned. “Sorry I can’t. I’m making bread.” Bread making is almost sacred. The uninitiated admire your domestic skills and are hesitant to disrupt you, the initiated smile understandingly and leave you alone.

Really, it’s the perfect hobby for the solitude-inclined.

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