We’re out of bread. So, like a good hubby, I told The Wife I’d make some more. Now this is no big deal; I’ve made loaves hundreds of times. Heck, I don’t even use a recipe any more; I just *make bread*.
Except when I mix everything together, knead it all up, then go to bead, forgetting my poor, abandoned bread on the counter, like I did last night. Uh, oooops.
I woke up this morning at about quarter-’til-five thinking, “Gosh – there’s bread downstairs.” So I came down and did a second knead, formed loaves, and in a while, I’ll have some fresh bread for breakfast. There are worse things in the world.
<snort> I once preheated the oven for a batch of bread with some popovers (the recipe I use calls for a 400° oven started cold, for 50 minutes). Popovers finished, I turned off the oven, and put the bread in.
That was one sorry loaf.