Boots and Bread

I am not at all psyched about this continuous May theme of rainy/sleety weather, but I am, however, completely smitten with rubber boots. I can't believe I have held off on owning a pair of rubber boots in my adult life. I remember good old duck shoes as a child, but I think it's possible that I never owned a full on pair of rubber boots. Until now! Flynn inherited a great pair of "Dairy Farmer" boots (available at any Walmart or IFA) and has been wearing them nonstop this spring. Mud, water, rocks, sand, gutters--these are Flynn's constant playmates so the boots have come in awfully handy for him and have saved me countless laundry hours. He pretty much wakes up, has breakfast, puts on the boots and heads out the door-usually with footed pajamas squeezed down inside the boots. It's a pretty good deal if you ask me. Cleo has a more stylish pink argyle pair and wears hers with equal gusto. I found myself jealous of them wading in a large gutter puddle the other day and decided it was high time I added some boots to my shoe arsenal. I now own a pair of adult sized dairy boots and I couldn't be happier! And funny enough, when we were in Spring City this week checking on the bees, Jaren added a pair to his collection and went wading around in the stream with the kids with impunity. This family is now a boot clad one so bring it on Mother Nature!

And what better thing to do on a cold spring evening then to slice into some warm bread? I promised a second installment on bread making so here goes.....

As I said in the previous post, learning to make your own bread from scratch is really surprisingly easy and it will make you feel like a million bucks in the self sufficiency and nutrition categories, and make you ooze pioneer-esque vigor. And your home will smell better than a new car. Bread making is alchemy, really. By introducing yeast, a living organism, to basic ingredients of flour, warm water, and salt, you transform ordinary gooey paste into a smooth, elastic, air pocket filled, dough that transforms once again when baked into the luscious life giving thing we call bread. It's cheap, it's filling, and it is the ultimate accompaniment to so many meals, or sometimes IS my meal of choice as long as there is lots of butter to be had!

I have a few whole wheat bread recipes that I like, but my go-to recipe below is the one that is the easiest, has minimal ingredients, and seems pretty much to be fail proof. The only ingredient you might wonder about is gluten. Vital wheat gluten is a great additive to use in bread making because it adds extra protein to your dough which provides the yeast with more oomph to make your bread rise. It also ups the protein content of the bread which is a nutritional plus. Glluten is available on the baking aisle of pretty much any grocery store. The only other ingredient worth mentioning is time...this recipe kinda requires you to be home, or near home, for a block of about 2 1/2-3 hours.

When I bake bread, I grind my wheat fresh from whole wheat berries because the nutrition from fresh whole wheat is much better than packaged, but that said, whole wheat from the store is just fine and is a serious step up on the nutritional ladder from Wonder Bread or all purpose flour. King Arthur brand is my favorite. (But if anyone wants to learn about grinding wheat and what it entails, ask away! I'd be happy to help.) Lastly, I'm sure the kneading portion of this recipe could be done easily with a Kitchenaid stand mixer but try it at least a few times by hand-it really helps to learn to "feel" the bread change from mush to smooth dough and it is also the perfect space of time to listen to great music or space out with your thoughts.

BASIC NO FRILLS WHEAT BREAD-Makes 3 standard size loaves

3 cups warm water

1 T yeast

1 T gluten

1/3 c. canola oil

1/3 c honey

1 T salt

7 1/2 c. whole wheat flour

In a large bowl mix the water and yeast. Add gluten, oil, honey, and salt and about half of the flour. It starts to get difficult to mix when about 6 c. are in so I usually dump it out onto my counter at some point and start kneading and adding the remaining flour. Set a timer and knead for 7-10 minutes. To my untrained mind, there really is no right way to knead. My technique is just to push down with the dough with both hands and then rotate a 1/4 turn and on and on. I sometimes throw in a flip the dough over move or two. I seriously don't think it is possible to ruin bread by kneading it "wrong" so I say find your own way! You will know you are done when the dough forms a soft, smooth and basically unsticky ball. (If your bread dough is ever cracky and crumbly you've probably added too much flour and the bread will be a little brick like but still taste pretty good!)

Grease the mixing bowl with cooking spray and put the dough ball back in covered with plastic wrap and let rise for 45-and hour or until the dough has doubled in size.

Grease 3 loaf pans with cooking spray. Punch the dough down to "deflate" all that good rising you've just witnessed, and divide dough into 3 equal chunks. I do this by cutting with a knife or dough scraper straight through the dough. Shape each dough piece into a little log shape that roughly fits the length of your loaf pan and set down in the pan. Cover with plastic wrap and let the loaves rise again 45-hour.

Bake at 350 for 20-25 minutes. (My oven runs hot so I usually bake mine at 325 for 25 and they come out nicely cooked.) Cool for a couple minutes in the pans and then take them out of the pans and let cool on a cooling rack or else the bottom of the loaves get soggy from steam.

Treat yourself and your family and try this bread stat! Bon appetito!

Making Bread, Part A

With the coming of spring and warmer weather, I tend to naturally start cooking lighter meals. More bbq'ing and salads, less lasagna and roasts. Tragically, I've also been baking a lot less bread. When a family gets used to having homemade bread, the lack of it is pretty torturous, and I've been taking quite a bit of heat from my tribe wondering where all the good bread has gone. I have a firm belief that if anyone wants to start living more simply and cooking from scratch, learning to bake bread is a natural first step. It will convert even the most avid critic. Sure it is more work than buying a loaf at the store, but just like a garden fresh tomato, the taste of homemade bread is so superior, you can't even lump the two into the same category. I have a psychological reaction to bread making too. It makes me feel like a pioneer woman-capable and industrious. All that kneading, working with elemental ingredients like yeast and flour and salt and transforming them into something utterly tasty and filling. And the smell of the yeasty bread baking in the oven triggers in me some deep seeded feeling of well being. It makes me feel like my home is comfortable and safe.

Bread making is surprisingly simple. Really! And once I had the basics down and my confidence up, I've found that I'm not afraid to try-and add- all different kinds of breads to my repertoire. Basic whole wheat loaves are the standard around here, but I also make a lot of pizza crust and some artisan style loaves. This weekend we made falafel and we had delicious home made pitas from a recipe in the Bread Bible. These pitas are so good and so easy, fluffy and delicious, I have to share the recipe with you! The only piece of special equipment they require is a pizza stone, which is a worthy investment since it is also the key to great homemade pizza crust, which will be PART B of making bread in a post later this week.

Pita Bread

3 cups plus 1/4 cup unbleached all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons salt

2 teaspoons instant yeast

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 1/4 cups water, at room temperature

1. Mix the dough. In a large bowl, combine all the ingredients except for the 1/4 cup of the flour. With a wooden spoon or your hand, mix until all the flour is moistened. Knead the dough in the bowl until it comes together.. Sprinkle a little of the reserved 1/4 c flour onto the counter and scrape the dough onto it. Knead the dough for 5 to 10 minutes or until it is soft and smooth and just a little sticky to the touch. Add a little flour or water if necessary. If it is too sticky to work with you can always invert a bowl over the dough and let it rest for 10 minutes and then start kneading again.

2. Let the dough rise: Using an oiled spatula or dough scraper, scrape the dough into a bowl, lightly greased with cooking spray or oil. Press the dough down and lightly spray or oil the top of it. Cover the container with a lid or plastic wrap. At this point, you can put the dough in the fridge and either use it anytime within 3 days or just let it chill for a few hours so it will be easier to work with when you are ready to use.

3. Preheat the oven: Preheat the oven to 475°F one hour before baking. Have an oven shelf at the lowest level and place a baking stone on it to get ultra hot during this preheat.

4. Shape the dough: Cut the dough into 8 or 12 pieces. Work with one piece at a time and shape each piece into a ball and then flatten it into a disk. Cover the dough with oiled plastic and allow it to rest for 20 minutes at room temperature. Then roll each disk into a circle maybe a 1/4 inch thick. Allow disks to rest, uncovered, for 10 minutes before baking. They will look like puffy little ovals.

5. Bake the pita: Quickly place disks of dough (maybe 4 at a time depending on size of your baking stone) directly on the stone and bake for 3 minutes. Amazingly, the pitas puff up immediately just like a true pita! They should look puffy but not beginning to brown when you remove them from the oven. (The dough will not puff well if it is not moist enough so if necessary, spray and knead each remaining piece with water until the dough is soft and moist, then reroll and try again.) These pitas are the real deal...floury and a hair crisp on the outside with a steamy void in the middle, perfect for stuffing full of falafel or hummus or even basic sandwich fixings.

6. Go directly and make these pitas. You won't be sorry!

happy mother's day!

being a mother is unlike any other experience i have ever encountered. it is completely all encompassing. it is relentless and real and definitely more about guts than glory. (though the glory moments, when they come, knock me off my feet and send me into the ether in a way that nothing else ever has.) the love, the sacrifice, the tunnel vision, the expectations, the hopes, and the growth i've experienced since becoming a mother define me. i've never been something-played a role so completely- that it becomes my identity. and now i realize on this my 6th mother's day, that this is the thing that i struggle and love the most about motherhood. i hate to feel like i've lost myself to my kids, and yet i've never felt more myself than to be their mom. does that make sense? it's a beautiful conundrum and a high wire balancing act, and i'm guessing that will never go away, even when i'm 70 and my children are full fledged adults.

ages ago my sister-in-law sent me a gorgeous little piece by the equally gorgeous writer anna quindlen that i have saved in my "inspirato" email folder and regularly read when i feel i've lost my way in motherhood. it is one of those great pieces of recorded perspective-a reminder to live in the moment more and to trust your children above all to tell you what they need and when. and i love quindlen's point that children "excavate our essential humanity". i believe this so much that i have a hard time imagining how people who do not have children can ever experience the fullness of their hearts, minds, and souls. i feel my kids excavating me daily; sometimes uncovering the treasures and warmth buried beneath and sometimes tugging at a raw spot that would rather stay deeply hidden. i think my children reveal my most honest self to me and they certainly bring out in me a desire to be better, to do more, to educate, and to face fears. i am forever grateful to cleo and flynn for challenging me an making me more me than i was before. happy mother's day to all of you out there growing and nurturing human beings, whatever their age. may we all do good work!

and here is the piece by anna quindlen. enjoy!:

All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like. Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past.

Everything in all the books I once poured over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach., T. Berry Brazelton., Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education, have all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories. What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations --what they taught me, was that they couldn't really teach me very much at all.

Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2.

When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing. Eventually you must learn to trust yourself.

Eventually the research will follow. I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton's wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China . Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.

Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. T hey have all been enshrined in the, "Remember-When- Mom-Did Hall of Fame." The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language, mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, "What did you get wrong?". (She insisted I include that.) The time I ordered food at the
McDonald's drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking?

But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night.

I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.

Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I'd done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be.

The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity. That's what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were.

**IMAGE ABOVE VIA POSTSECRET.COM, a site so worth checking out i can almost guarantee instant fascination and lots of time suckage.