I Did Nothing
May. 14th, 2021 09:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
taz_39Hooray for the weekend.
I woke up feeling stressed again. It's a feeling like I'm not doing enough, and/or like I have too much to do.
In this annoyed mood I got started on the brown sugar spice oatmeal bread.
Everything went fine until it was time to incorporate the cooked oats, cinnamon and sugar. The dough was too tight for these ingredients to incorporate properly, so I ended up with a big mess of ropey dough and oats just everywhere. Irritated, I dumped it in my rising bowl and left it alone for 90 minutes, during which time I went to get a car wash, vacuumed the car, and visited our gym to see what their policies are on mask-wearing, cleaning, etc. Our gym is big with high ceilings and lots of floor space, so I think what they're doing is acceptable (masks optional, everyone gets their own cleaning bottle and towel, they clean extra and use UV lights on stuff, reduced class sizes, etc). I'll probably wait until after my family visit in June, but after that it's back to the gym, twice a week minimum.
After that I stopped at Lowe's for cowpea seeds since it's getting too hot for much else to grow, then came home to throw them in the dirt and check on the bread. The dough was a lot more loose, having risen a bit, so I worked the rest of the oats and brown sugar in and it went a little better. I left the dough to rise for the remainder of the time, not sure if having interrupted the rise will affect the finished loaf.
After lunch I dumped the dough out to shape it and it's very wet, a lot of extra moisture from those oats. Somehow I manhandled it into a loaf pan where it rose for another hour or so. During that time Jameson played virtual games with his friends, and I tried to relax with some stupid youtube videos, listening to the thunder outside and hoping it would rain (in Florida, thunder does NOT always mean it's going to rain.)
It did rain, and the rain was wonderful and sorely needed.
My bread was a disaster. It partially deflated, and when I cut it open it was heavy and still too wet inside.
I'd thought I did everything "right" except for incorporating the oats poorly, so figured they hadn't distributed well and had caused pockets of density.
What ACTUALLY happened, as I found out from author Bonnie O'Hara herself, is that I measured the oats DRY.
Reading her descriptive paragraph (which I had done but without, like, actually THINKING about what I was reading), she explains that this bread came about in an attempt to use up PRE-COOKED oatmeal that she had made for her family for the week. In other words, the oats need to be weighted AFTER cooking.
*headdesk*
I'm sure this seems obvious, but to me it was not so obvious while reading the instructions (before having my morning coffee I should note).
The other thing is how difficult it was to incorporate the oats as a separate thing from the main dough.
After doing some research online, it seems that most "leftover oatmeal bread" recipes have you include the oats in the initial dough-mixing process. My plan now is to weigh the COOKED oats, add them along with all of the other dough ingredients, and then add the brown sugar and cinnamon during the kneading process. Hopefully that'll solve that problem.
After that disappointment I had steno class, which went as well as it could. Then I made the cooked oats so they'll be ready for tomorrow, and chilled for a few hours while Jameson played the new Resident Evil game.
Thursday was deja vu bread attempt. Adding the oats to the initial mix seemed to work well, once the dough was mixed I couldn't even tell they were there. Adding the cinnamon and sugar was still difficult, but less so because there weren't slimy oats to deal with, just melting sugar crystals making the dough super sticky. I put the dough through it's resting and rising and shaping steps, having lunch around noon, practicing steno while Jameson taught his class, meal prepping and making a grocery list for later. Avoiding practicing the trombone.
Here are some passion fruits that have dropped off of my vine. They're pretty small, so I won't be making any treats until the larger fruits drop.
Here's the dill getting ready to bolt. The flowers are really pretty. I'm looking forward to seeds.
Finally the dough was ready for the oven.
It came out looking a lot better than the first loaf. A little dark maybe, but that's ok.
Here's a side-by-side of the loaf I made yesterday, vs today's.
You can see that the dough is much lighter and it's got a more even crumb (although still not great, probably because I did a poor job shaping the dough and used too much flour during shaping as well.)
The texture is still kinda chewy and more dense than I would prefer, but from what I've read online breads made with cooked grains in them are just "like that". Bonnie actually took the time to write again to say that this type of bread is best toasted, so you can bet I'll be toasting it all week long. Texture aside, it tastes very good, and that's what matters! I'm excited to try it with the blueberry jam my coworker gave me.
Next week begins the chapter on Enriched Breads: that's brioche, challah, babka, cinnamon rolls.
Although it will be no good for my waistline I'm VERY excited to make these breads! I can't believe I've gotten to the point where this will be possible for me. Very grateful to have a boyfriend who allows me to wreck the kitchen once a week, and encourages me in this non-essential activity.
Being that I'm about halfway through Bread Baking for Beginners now, I wanted to say a little something about it.
Everyone has hobbies. For some it's gardening, for others it's gaming, or skydiving, or knitting, etc etc.
I'm not sure if this is a hobby, but it was something I wanted to try. And as usual, not just because *I* want to try it, but because *my mom* would have wanted to try it. And there's a part of me that is always, always, living for her.
I don't think I ever saw my mom make a decent loaf of bread. She could make pie crusts like no one's business, and cookies and sorbets and creme brulees among other things. But for some reason she just never learned yeasted breads before she died at the age of 44 (or was it 43? sigh). She had a bread machine once, and I recall a blueberry bread she made, but we all agreed it was "yucky" with a weird aftertaste. After a few more attempts I'm pretty sure she sold the bread machine because I never saw another loaf again. She also never made bread without a machine that I can recall, unless it was a cake bread like banana, pumpkin, or zucchini.
I think that bread baking is something my mom would have really liked to learn. I think that by the time she discovered a) that she had a passion for baking, and b) that people enjoyed her baking so much they were willing to pay for it, she had already run out of time. She had just started baking semi-professionally for a local restaurant when the cancer took her.
I learned this for me, I learned this for her, and I learned this because covid, and I needed a distraction from my even-more-mundane-than-usual life. Baking, at all, makes me feel connected to my mom. And baking one's own bread can be healthy, and can open up options for gift-giving and sharing of a skill with others. Something that was cut out of my life when the circus was taken away.
All of that said, this has been a very important, and also very fun and engaging, process for me.
There are still people out there who just HAVE to complain about what I do or do not do, and I am trying real hard to ignore those folks.
Even a sub-human like me can have a few hours, one day per week (or two if I f*ck up like I did this week) to do something that brings a few moments of enjoyment. Even a "thing" like me.
I am proud of my progress with baking bread. I am surprised and grateful that the author of the book I'm using has made a point to comment on almost every finished product I've made. And I would like to continue making breads and other types of bakes and foods, in between all the other things that I do. I hope that'll be ok. It's just a small thing, isn't it, and it harms no one, and it matters to me.
Anyway, thanks for listening.
While the bread was cooling I went to Target for a few things, and Jameson went to dinner with some theater friends. I bought myself a ticket to his production of Head Over Heels in June, and practiced trombone a bit, then felt restless and went for a walk. A cold front has moved in so it was in the 80s and overcast, the breeze felt a little cool, and the smell of people cooking out and fresh-mowed lawn and recent rain brought waves of nostalgia for childhood summers in coal country as I walked the winding streets of our little neighborhood. I could imagine, for just a little, that things were simple again. That my mom was there to hug. I wished I could show her my loaf, even though it's not perfect. I wished for...well, I don't know what. I felt restless, and I walked.
When I got home I cleaned myself up, then sliced the bread and put half in the freezer and half on the counter. I ate a sticky rice popsicle and was pleasantly surprised at the chewy texture, and wished I had added more toasted sesame seeds. I started watching a new anime called "Fumetsu no Anata e", and guys let me tell you, one episode in I am TRAUMATIZED. I don't want to spoil it but DAMN, the first episode is extremely heart-wrenching and difficult to watch. But now of course I want to watch more.
This week I don't think anything exciting is happening except I have a dress rehearsal for that charity concert on Sunday, and a dentist appointment next "weekend", big whoop. Jameson has rehearsals three days this week so I'll have some evenings without him.
That's all I got.
I woke up feeling stressed again. It's a feeling like I'm not doing enough, and/or like I have too much to do.
In this annoyed mood I got started on the brown sugar spice oatmeal bread.
Everything went fine until it was time to incorporate the cooked oats, cinnamon and sugar. The dough was too tight for these ingredients to incorporate properly, so I ended up with a big mess of ropey dough and oats just everywhere. Irritated, I dumped it in my rising bowl and left it alone for 90 minutes, during which time I went to get a car wash, vacuumed the car, and visited our gym to see what their policies are on mask-wearing, cleaning, etc. Our gym is big with high ceilings and lots of floor space, so I think what they're doing is acceptable (masks optional, everyone gets their own cleaning bottle and towel, they clean extra and use UV lights on stuff, reduced class sizes, etc). I'll probably wait until after my family visit in June, but after that it's back to the gym, twice a week minimum.
After that I stopped at Lowe's for cowpea seeds since it's getting too hot for much else to grow, then came home to throw them in the dirt and check on the bread. The dough was a lot more loose, having risen a bit, so I worked the rest of the oats and brown sugar in and it went a little better. I left the dough to rise for the remainder of the time, not sure if having interrupted the rise will affect the finished loaf.
After lunch I dumped the dough out to shape it and it's very wet, a lot of extra moisture from those oats. Somehow I manhandled it into a loaf pan where it rose for another hour or so. During that time Jameson played virtual games with his friends, and I tried to relax with some stupid youtube videos, listening to the thunder outside and hoping it would rain (in Florida, thunder does NOT always mean it's going to rain.)
It did rain, and the rain was wonderful and sorely needed.
My bread was a disaster. It partially deflated, and when I cut it open it was heavy and still too wet inside.
I'd thought I did everything "right" except for incorporating the oats poorly, so figured they hadn't distributed well and had caused pockets of density.
What ACTUALLY happened, as I found out from author Bonnie O'Hara herself, is that I measured the oats DRY.
Reading her descriptive paragraph (which I had done but without, like, actually THINKING about what I was reading), she explains that this bread came about in an attempt to use up PRE-COOKED oatmeal that she had made for her family for the week. In other words, the oats need to be weighted AFTER cooking.
*headdesk*
I'm sure this seems obvious, but to me it was not so obvious while reading the instructions (before having my morning coffee I should note).
The other thing is how difficult it was to incorporate the oats as a separate thing from the main dough.
After doing some research online, it seems that most "leftover oatmeal bread" recipes have you include the oats in the initial dough-mixing process. My plan now is to weigh the COOKED oats, add them along with all of the other dough ingredients, and then add the brown sugar and cinnamon during the kneading process. Hopefully that'll solve that problem.
After that disappointment I had steno class, which went as well as it could. Then I made the cooked oats so they'll be ready for tomorrow, and chilled for a few hours while Jameson played the new Resident Evil game.
Thursday was deja vu bread attempt. Adding the oats to the initial mix seemed to work well, once the dough was mixed I couldn't even tell they were there. Adding the cinnamon and sugar was still difficult, but less so because there weren't slimy oats to deal with, just melting sugar crystals making the dough super sticky. I put the dough through it's resting and rising and shaping steps, having lunch around noon, practicing steno while Jameson taught his class, meal prepping and making a grocery list for later. Avoiding practicing the trombone.
Here are some passion fruits that have dropped off of my vine. They're pretty small, so I won't be making any treats until the larger fruits drop.
Here's the dill getting ready to bolt. The flowers are really pretty. I'm looking forward to seeds.
Finally the dough was ready for the oven.
It came out looking a lot better than the first loaf. A little dark maybe, but that's ok.
Here's a side-by-side of the loaf I made yesterday, vs today's.
You can see that the dough is much lighter and it's got a more even crumb (although still not great, probably because I did a poor job shaping the dough and used too much flour during shaping as well.)
The texture is still kinda chewy and more dense than I would prefer, but from what I've read online breads made with cooked grains in them are just "like that". Bonnie actually took the time to write again to say that this type of bread is best toasted, so you can bet I'll be toasting it all week long. Texture aside, it tastes very good, and that's what matters! I'm excited to try it with the blueberry jam my coworker gave me.
Next week begins the chapter on Enriched Breads: that's brioche, challah, babka, cinnamon rolls.
Although it will be no good for my waistline I'm VERY excited to make these breads! I can't believe I've gotten to the point where this will be possible for me. Very grateful to have a boyfriend who allows me to wreck the kitchen once a week, and encourages me in this non-essential activity.
Being that I'm about halfway through Bread Baking for Beginners now, I wanted to say a little something about it.
Everyone has hobbies. For some it's gardening, for others it's gaming, or skydiving, or knitting, etc etc.
I'm not sure if this is a hobby, but it was something I wanted to try. And as usual, not just because *I* want to try it, but because *my mom* would have wanted to try it. And there's a part of me that is always, always, living for her.
I don't think I ever saw my mom make a decent loaf of bread. She could make pie crusts like no one's business, and cookies and sorbets and creme brulees among other things. But for some reason she just never learned yeasted breads before she died at the age of 44 (or was it 43? sigh). She had a bread machine once, and I recall a blueberry bread she made, but we all agreed it was "yucky" with a weird aftertaste. After a few more attempts I'm pretty sure she sold the bread machine because I never saw another loaf again. She also never made bread without a machine that I can recall, unless it was a cake bread like banana, pumpkin, or zucchini.
I think that bread baking is something my mom would have really liked to learn. I think that by the time she discovered a) that she had a passion for baking, and b) that people enjoyed her baking so much they were willing to pay for it, she had already run out of time. She had just started baking semi-professionally for a local restaurant when the cancer took her.
I learned this for me, I learned this for her, and I learned this because covid, and I needed a distraction from my even-more-mundane-than-usual life. Baking, at all, makes me feel connected to my mom. And baking one's own bread can be healthy, and can open up options for gift-giving and sharing of a skill with others. Something that was cut out of my life when the circus was taken away.
All of that said, this has been a very important, and also very fun and engaging, process for me.
There are still people out there who just HAVE to complain about what I do or do not do, and I am trying real hard to ignore those folks.
Even a sub-human like me can have a few hours, one day per week (or two if I f*ck up like I did this week) to do something that brings a few moments of enjoyment. Even a "thing" like me.
I am proud of my progress with baking bread. I am surprised and grateful that the author of the book I'm using has made a point to comment on almost every finished product I've made. And I would like to continue making breads and other types of bakes and foods, in between all the other things that I do. I hope that'll be ok. It's just a small thing, isn't it, and it harms no one, and it matters to me.
Anyway, thanks for listening.
While the bread was cooling I went to Target for a few things, and Jameson went to dinner with some theater friends. I bought myself a ticket to his production of Head Over Heels in June, and practiced trombone a bit, then felt restless and went for a walk. A cold front has moved in so it was in the 80s and overcast, the breeze felt a little cool, and the smell of people cooking out and fresh-mowed lawn and recent rain brought waves of nostalgia for childhood summers in coal country as I walked the winding streets of our little neighborhood. I could imagine, for just a little, that things were simple again. That my mom was there to hug. I wished I could show her my loaf, even though it's not perfect. I wished for...well, I don't know what. I felt restless, and I walked.
When I got home I cleaned myself up, then sliced the bread and put half in the freezer and half on the counter. I ate a sticky rice popsicle and was pleasantly surprised at the chewy texture, and wished I had added more toasted sesame seeds. I started watching a new anime called "Fumetsu no Anata e", and guys let me tell you, one episode in I am TRAUMATIZED. I don't want to spoil it but DAMN, the first episode is extremely heart-wrenching and difficult to watch. But now of course I want to watch more.
This week I don't think anything exciting is happening except I have a dress rehearsal for that charity concert on Sunday, and a dentist appointment next "weekend", big whoop. Jameson has rehearsals three days this week so I'll have some evenings without him.
That's all I got.
