My Everything Corner

September 5, 2013 - The third day of school. My daughter wakes up, kisses me good morning, (while I'm still in bed) and promptly heads off to the kitchen to prepare her lunch for school.  I can only assume she is in a rush to beat me to it as she has insisted, since we bought her new lunch bag, that she wants to be responsible for this task. I really had no problem with her taking this on as long as she would allow me to scrutinize her choice of foods.  She had no problem with this, so it was on to learning how to slice bread.  I'm very fussy about my bread.  I really can't stand it when someone messes up my nice, straight cut.  But, for the sake of my daughter's education in the kitchen, I will put my fussiness aside.  Although she did a decent job of it on the two mornings I was supervising her, today, when she took the loaf on herself, it was a disaster.  Bread crumbs.  Dog food.  I walked into the kitchen and she im...

It does not matter how many times I do the simple task of baking bread, it is always a very satisfying experience. From the time the ingredients come together to form the perfect dough, to the moment I'm buttering up that wonderful crust, I find myself very pleased with the entire process. Every time I knead the dough, I remember my Grandma in her kitchen. I would sit and watch her work that dough until it was perfect and when she was shaping the buns, she would always give me a playful smack on the cheek with the dough. And then I waited, and waited until it had baked and cooled enough to cut into. That slightly warm, freshly buttered crust, pleased like nothing else could, and still does today. I miss the company though, and I can never seem to get my bread the same as Grandma's. Have you ever noticed that wine tastes better with a good friend? Perhaps it's the same with bread. I've shared this post over at Stephanie's beautiful blog for Roses of Ins...