Focaccia

Focaccia
Originally uploaded by riblet.

Check it out, check it out, check it out, check it out, check it out, check it out, check it out, check it out!

I made this. It was good, but I don't believe I'll be whipping it up again any time soon. It took two days and a lot of worry. What worries me about bread is that unlike a soup, you can't really taste the dough as you cook and adjust to maximize the success of the end product. You sort of throw the things together, rise, shape, rise and bake it blindly. The control freak in me is having a really hard time accepting this. The mantra I've come up with is: LET GO AND LET DOUGH.

I'm starting to understand that tasty bread calls for an overnight fermentation in the fridge. Oh, and with this loaf, you don't even want to know the calorie count per slice. Let's just say that this bread is baked with more oil than you think is possible. And then you pour more on top of it. The result is a superbly crafted bread, but it leaves a healthy sheen of oil on my fingers, which I'm not ashamed to lick clean.

Oh, bread. I love you like a fat kid loves, well, bread!

First foccacia

First foccacia
Originally uploaded by riblet.

Fueled by my major failure last week with preschool, I've been making up for my parenting inadequacies with a total cooking storm in the kitchen. It's been very therapeutic. This weekend I made pinto beans, garbanzo beans and this foccacia. Beans and bread, beans and bread!!

The foccacia came out pretty good, but a much denser crumb than expected. I don't understand bread science yet, but I think it's either because I used too much flour or kneaded it too much. The recipe is from "Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone" by Deborah Madison. I find myself turning to this book again and again. Over half the loaf was gone by this afternoon. Leon and I had little toasty sandwiches with it, topped with farmer's market tomatoes, salt, pepper, good olive oil and some cheese.

My efforts in the kitchen prompted this sad exchange:

Me: "I made foccacia! It basically sucks not to be married to me right now."

Leon: "It kind of does, since I'm on a diet and you're making all this bread."

Wah!

Behaving badly

Ugh. I hope I never have to relive today. It started off with a giant spilled coffee mess and ended up with Ira and me in tears several times throughout the day. Preschool kicked our butts.



Ira crashed at ten PM last night and was up bright and early at 7:30 am this morning. I kind of knew that would get us off to a rough start, but I thought the appeal of today's "big kid school" session would have him in higher spirits. So wrong! First rule of toddler fight club is that nothing ever quite goes how mommy wants it to. Not only did he get in several squabbles over toys, but he fully cart-jacked (that's what you call it when you take someone's shopping cart at gunpoint, right?) a little girl and yelled "I shoot you! Pechooo!" The other moms went slack-jawed while I cringed and felt my heart break into pieces. These East Sac, polished moms, wearing their $300 shoes must think we're scum of the earth. I apologized profusely to the offended parties, grabbed Ira and went outside for a breather. We sat out for circle time, but took our snack quietly. Camille just so kindly reminded me that I can't be all bad because I make my own bread. I just have to figure out a way to drop that fact into conversation around the polished moms.



Later on the playground, some moms tried to console me, noting that we all have bad days. I still felt like worst mom of the year. One of them asked "where does he learn that?!" She was referring to the earlier shooting. I had to lay blame on my old school parents. Wherever Ira picked up the play shooting, TV or whatever...I don't know, but my parents perpetuate it. Ira shoots them, they shoot him back, explaining "that's what boys do, they play guns!" Maybe they do, but I was having an extremely hard time relaying to them how kids aren't encouraged to play this way anymore. Ever heard of Columbine, mom? Besides, we live way too close to Oak Park to play-shoot anyone. In telling them what happened today, through tears and all, I think they finally got my point. The toy box at their house will be thoroughly weeded through and all remaining toy guns will be thrown out.



Awful, awful day. Also, don't ever buy a huge brick of cheese at Costco and then change your mind wanting to exchange it 2 minutes after you buy it. The member service chick will make you feel guilty by telling you that they have to throw the entire brick of cheese away.



So today's lessons are:
1. Always screw the lid onto your coffee travel mug tight.
2. If you you don't think your kid is going to hack it at preschool, consider sitting that day out.
3. If the mood is right, cheese guilt can deftly bring one to tears.

I made sandwich bread!

I made sandwich bread!
Originally uploaded by riblet.

On the playground, I talk to a lot of moms. Sometimes one of them will point to another across the sand box and say in hushed, revered tone, "she makes her own bread." Those in earshot exchange serious looks that say "wow, she isn't effing around," or depending on my mood "quit making the rest of us look bad!"

I've always wanted to learn how to make bread but have either been too nervous to attempt it or couldn't really find a recipe that didn't look too daunting. After mastering two different pizza doughs, I finally got the courage to take on sandwich bread when I saw a recipe for a light wheat bread over at Smitten Kitchen. I love this site. Deb, the blogger/cook, features lots of interesting vegetarian dishes (some meat too), amazing looking desserts and tons of helpful tips and primers. This is where I found the recipe for Jim Lahey's potato pizza, the soft pretzels that Leon made for me two weeks ago and now this bread.

Let me say this: bread making wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. My trusty Kitchen Aid stand mixer did the bulk of the work. I mostly just measured the ingredients, sat back and caught up on some Lego building with Ira while I waited for the dough to knead and rise. Best thing? It came out great and I lived to tell you about it.

Psst. I make my own bread.