The Quest for Bread
As part of my life decision to be a great big ponce, I took delivery of a bread machine with the sole, misguided intention to make my own bread. With an armful of hideously out-of-date ingredients kindly donated by the former wife, what, I ask, could possibly go wrong?
Fucking everything, as it turns out.
"Ah-ha! Just as I thought..."
Picture this, my very first attempt, aborted before the cooking cycle really got going. Yes, it's hideous, didn't rise a bit, and has now been set free to live out its days on the government benches in the House of Lords.
"Perhaps," said my flatmate, "You shouldn't have used that yeast."
He is CORRECT, for the Use By date of that yeast was July. July of 2007.
So we tried again, with yeast that was only slightly out-of-date, and with the weevils painstakingly removed from the flour.
The picture doesn't really do it justice. It's Terry Pratchett Dwarf Bread, the densest material in the known universe. Using professional cutting equipment, we finally gained access, to find that it was - in fact - a really big crumpet. A really big crumpet that tastes OK if you use all the marmite in the world.
Suddenly everybody is a bread expert: "Too much water", "Old ingredients", "Get yourself some measuring spoons", "The Feng Shui's wrong", "Don't use rat poison"
But, after buying some spiffy new measuring spoons, I know the real reason: "You're a bloke trying to cook".
OK, then. New yeast, new flour, decent tools. Third time's the charm... Worship me, for I AM A BREAD-MAKING GOD!
I am now open to requests. But not plaited bread, for that is the first step down the road to poncery.
You know, after I've mastered this bread-making business, I may well branch out into other products. I'm a huge fan of baps, as it happens.
*cough* Amazon Wish List *cough*