I have told you about how welcoming this neighborhood is. Well, there is more. When I mentioned to one of the neighbors that I would love to bake bread as nice as hers, she invited me over for the whole afternoon to watch her make bread.
I walked in to Ms V’s home and noticed how beautifully organized that she is. She had all of the containers of ingredients sitting in a flat that sat on her butcher block island. She was all neat and tidy in her crisply ironed apron. I held up my camera and teased her that she was on her own HGTV cooking show with her audience of one. That’s me.
She patiently explained to me each step as she added things like potato flour and powdered milk. She handled that dough like a professional. I was intrigued with the way that she used oil on her board instead of flour. This little lady was a powerhouse with that bread dough. She smacked it around and showed it (and me) who was boss.
She weighed the precise amount of dough on a scale before placing it in her well oiled pans. I was in her fun company for about 3 (ish) hours. During that time we really got to know each other. When the bread came out of the oven, her husband Mr. A magically appeared from out of nowhere. Something about fresh hot bread brings the menfolk around. She graciously gave me a loaf to take home to my husband. The next night he took me (and her) dancing. Now that my friends is another fun story that we will save for D-day.
There are other B words on our new farm. But for now, I will concentrate on learning to make this magical bread.