Slow on the uptake

Alright, I know this post isn't going to come as an epiphany to anyone since everyone in the whole wide world (seriously, there are 52 posts in my Reader alone) has made the friggen No-Knead Bread except me, but STILL, I made it and it's awesome and now I will share with you the many ways I love this bread and a few things I learned so that if you're the one other person out there who hasn't made this bread besides me, you don't do the same dumb shit I did that might lead to disappointment and sadness.

If you're bored of the NKB, I won't blame you if you skip this post and come back tomorrow (ish) when I plan to change tunes altogether and just bitch openly about a cultural phenomenon that I find to be wholly inexcusable.

Anyway, my bread.

I never thought I'd make this bread because I had three or four different run-ins with faulty yeast in a very short period of time and the experiences had broken my bread-baking spirit.

I was off bread baking forever because apparently yeast was my arch nemesis and chose to revolt in inertness when I ripped the package open. It was very disappointing, to go to the trouble of making bread dough only to have it lie lifeless in the bowl, not a rise or bubble in sight.

And I realize that this synopsis sounds a little lewd and lascivious, but I promise it wasn't. If it were, I might have at least been amused but overall it was just sad and made me hate baking bread.

But then Elke made the bread. And she went on and on about its ease and fabulousness and perfect crust and things. It made me want to go back into the water with the fucking yeast to see if it would, by some miracle, work for me again as it once had when I used to bake bread in a flower pot like some kind of fruit.

So, I consulted with my bread-baking neighbor to find out what kind of works-every-time miracle yeast she used (Perfect Rise Yeast) and then I went right over to TJ's and got it. And while I was there I restocked on King Arthur flour because we all know it's the best flour, so there.

And then I came home and did my famous reenactment of Finny Cooks Without Reading the Recipe All The Way Through that nearly took me back to hating bread because of the part where the recipe says, "Put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (cast iron, enamel, Pyrex or ceramic) in oven" which I did not know about beforehand because I WHOOPSY! didn't read the recipe all the way through before starting to bake like a normal person might.

Oh.

I don't have an oven safe 6-8 quart heavy covered pot. What the fuck am I supposed to do with this big blob of dough NOW? Is what I was asking myself in a loud annoyed voice.

Please don't throw me out. I promise to behave.

Shit shit shit.

But wait. I DO have a crock pot. And it has a big ass ceramic removable pot because it's from the friggen 70s or something before Rival got all fancy and started making these things from shiny stainless steel and stuff.

And that fucker has a LID! An oven safe one!

Hazzah. I had my oven safe 6-8 quart heavy (as all get out) covered pot. Also, I'm now extra glad that I didn't WHOOPSY! donate Bubba's ugly old crock pot back in the day when we moved in together because of its ugliness and how I thought I'd never use a crock pot so why did we need one taking up all this cabinet space.

Sometimes I can be such an asshole. Also, wrong, but you know, NOT THE POINT.

The point is that I have a pot that totally works to the point where I now LOVE our ugly old from-the-70s crock pot even if the LOW temperature setting really means OFF and even though I'm sure it was originally marketed as being "a lovely kitchen appliance in fashionable harvest gold!"

So, what other ridiculous show-stopping events could have kept me from baking a successful loaf of simple bread that doesn't even require kneading? Um, yeah, our house.

Aside from the yeast that was arching me, the house seemed to be taking its side. Perhaps the house is one of The Yeast's henchmen and agreed to arch me relentlessly until I gave up baking bread forever.

Perhaps. And perhaps I've started to lose it when I begin thinking that yeast and houses are evil superhero criminals creating diabolical plans to avenge me. Too much Adult Swim?

See, the bread dough wasn't rising. Or bubbling adequately. Or really doing any of the things that bread dough is supposed to do, like double in size for instance, and it was really starting to piss me off.

*Achooo* *Sniff* *Shiver*

Oh. Yeast needs heat to rise. Our house is not warm because we never turn on the heater. The yeast is cold.

THAT'S IT - The House is arching the yeast! Wait, no, I need to turn on the heater! OR, better yet, I need to put the bread on the bathroom counter, turn on the bathroom heater (we have one built into the exhaust fan) and close the door for about two hours.

TEE DAH!

The bread bubbles! The bread rises! Miracles happen! I don't have a really retarded arch nemesis!

Ew. Food in the bathroom.

And approximately 3 hours later (after rising and baking), I got loaf #1 that was not entirely fucked up.

And I look purty, too.

It wasn't perrrrrrrfect, sorta only rose right on one side BUT, it tasted ruuully good and looked pretty respectable. For bread, anyway.

You could take me home to mama, that's how respectable I am.

But if I'd had any notion of quitting while I was ahead with the whole bread baking business, Bubba put a quick stop to that. He is a bread loving man, dontchaknow, and as soon as the smell filled his nose, it was, let's say, ON.

I baked again - this time for our Ski Week Menu of Amazing Food - and it came out perfect. Like, I took at least 10 pictures of it perfect. And we ate every last crumb of it perfect. And I even brought some to my mom perfect.

Harvest gold is SO my color.

There's steam coming from the bread. Not that you can see it.

And if you ever wanted to eat the best meatloaf sandwich you'd slice up some leftover Cajun Meatloaf from this recipe of Pastor Ryan's and put it on some of this bread with some sharp cheddar cheese perfect.

I ate this over the cutting board like in the old days when we broke all our plates. Long story.

And when it was gone, I made some more. You know, because now that I've managed to make it right, Bubba has re-whetted his addiction to fresh-baked bread and will. not. be. without. it.

So, just to prove that I could make it again without horrible debilitating failure, last week I baked this loaf when I got home from my run.

Running and baking bread are obvious complimentary activities.

After which, we continued our celebration of Hey! I Can Bake Bread Again! by eating it every which way.

It was raining and we ate fondue while watching old Pink Panther movies. Obviously.

Bread and pseudo-butter.

We even served it to our bread-baking neighbors when they came over for dinner. For the record, they loved it, too. AND THEY'RE FANCY WITH BREAD. So, that means something. To me.

No one said anything about my tubTub though. Sad.

Anyway, that's probably enough about me+bread=luv 4 eva. However, here's the sum of shit I learned that might help you out if you haven't made this and want to:

1. I recommend SAF Perfect Rise Instant Yeast in packets. You can also get it at Trader Joe's.
2. I recommend King Arthur Flour All Purpose, Unbleached flour. You can also get it at Trader Joe's.
3. If you don't have the 6-8 quart heavy covered pot the recipe calls for, a crock pot pot and lid will totally work as long as they're the Oldie Hawn kinds with the removable ceramic bowl with the heatproof lid.
   
4. If you can't get the bread to rise or bubble, turn on the heater and put the bread close by.
5. Use a LOT of flour on the towel before you throw the dough ball on there. Trust me.

The end.