It is a breeze...

Baking bread is something that used to put a flutter in my heart. I envisioned bread dough as this fragile thing that could only be handled by those with a strong will and special powers. I will admit that in the beginning of my bread making adventures that I made my fair share of bricks. Getting a bread machine ultimately gave me the courage to step beyond the bounds of that plastic cooker environment and into my own oven. I now bake bread several times a week and don't bat an eye at the notion. Bread is forgiving and doesn't ask much of you. All bread asks is for water that isn't too hot and time. Time to let the wonder of yeast and its fermenting powers work. Time to become the picture in the cook book. I now think of bread like raising children. At first it is jump a lump that lies there. Over time it grows and becomes so much more than the humble ingredients. It is when fully mature a thing of beauty.