Bread on the Brain

Tonight will be my first attempt at bread making.

The Breed of Bread: Crusty French.
The Accompanying Meal (care of addROC): Pasta Bolognese.
The Tension: Mounting.

There is a certain thrill that comes with bread making, because, well, you can do everything right, and still fail dismally.

My memory takes me back to my kitchen in Bay Ridge, my youth, and my mother trying to bake focaccia bread. Trying being the operative word. She would knead and knead, and the dough would never rise. Even though she left it in a covered bowl by the radiator for hours...

The one time the dough humored her, doubling in size, the final product was still appalling. She pulled the stone from the oven, with a beautiful loaf upon it, but, alas, it was like rock. We could have chipped ice with that shit.

Perhaps I will face the same fate...but, when all is said and done, I won't be eating bread out of a can:

Crazy Japanese.