OK. Let's just get this out of the way. I'm a blonde woman. Now, I like to think that the old stereotype of blonde = ditzy/dumb doesn't apply to me. I'm an engineer with a masters from MIT for heaven's sake!! But, just when I am at my most smug about "I am not a dumb blonde", some higher power reaches out and smacks me on the back of the head. Well, uh, I think I have a concussion this morning. Last night, after what can only be described as a long week of commutes from hell, shoveling more snow than I hope to ever see again in this or the next life, and a few "forest fires" at work, I was just happy that it was Friday and I was safely home to hunker down with MBH and Katley (our feline companion) that I pulled into the garage a bit too close...ok, a LOT too close to one side. I got out, looked at how close I was and said, "WW, you really should very carefully back out and put the car in a bit better because you know tomorrow when you and MBH leave to go to Dammits that you are going to smack your mirror into the side of the garage and break the thing off". Now, normally I listen to that wiser alter-ego of mine, but owing to wanting to get in the house and out of the sub-teen evening air, I talked myself into believing that I would "remember" to be careful in the morning. I think you know where this is going don't you? Yup, you got it. The 'brilliant' (can I still use that?) woman that I am, got myself distracted this morning. What with getting up to make the dough to test the new baguette pan, it being 6am and not having any coffee, and the added problem of having to wake up our upstairs neighbors to move one of the cars from the bottom of the driveway so we could leave...well, uhm, errr... let's hope my insurance covers stupidity. MBH just looked at the dangling mirror, looked at me, looked back at the mirror, climbed into the car and shook his head with that grin on his face that said, "I knew it". Guess I am blonde after all...
As I type this sitting in my normal chair at Dammits, in my oven at home (off folks, don't panic) and nestled in the new baguette pan are two "almost" perfectly shaped sourdough baguettes. They are rising for the next 7 hours and then will be baked to be served with dinner tonight. MBH is salivating at the thought of the crispy, crunchy crust and chewy inside of a baguette. He is so funny though. When the pan came he asked when he could taste the results of the much anticipated and awaited baguette pan. When I told him Saturday evening, he looked at me with this most incredulous look on his face and said "Saturday Night??!! I thought we would have bread tonight!" As he always has the same reaction when I make any type of sourdough bread, I reminded him that baguettes and sourdough breads in general are not quick breads. That every time I have made sourdough bread in the past it is a two day affair and proceeded to re-tell him the timetable for baguettes (he is so good about staring blankly at me while I ramble on about timing, sponges, retarding, etc.) I even told him that I would be eliciting his assistance as usual to mix flour/water into the starter on Friday afternoon to prepare it for the overnight sponge. Last night before going to bed, I added the water and 1/3 of the flour to the very, very active starter (MBH is the best starter feeder I know), and then let the sponge sit overnight in the oven (off again). This morning I awoke to a wonderfully foamy and risen sponge, added the salt and remaining flour, kneaded the dough for 20 minutes, let the dough rest while I made MBH's bacon, fed Katley, finished getting ready to go to Dammits and then shaped the baguettes and now we wait. My baguette shaping needs some help though. On Christmas day, the local PBS TV station ran an all day marathon of Cooking with Julia Child and the last episode they showed was the one where she went to
Saturday, January 29, 2005
Sometimes I'm so blonde...
