I enjoy cooking, and have always loved to bake. I'm no pro, by any stretch, but it makes me happy, keeps my hands busy, and the results are edible (most of the time).
From time to time, although not anytime recently, I try my hand at making bread. The smell of yeast is one of my favorite aromas, and I really do enjoy the slowing down that (for me) waiting for all that rising requires.
Recently, Olive's school asked parents to bring in a few things. We rotate bringing flowers to keep the classroom cheery and to teach the kids something about tending plants. We also bring in apples, carrots, bread, etc. for food prep lessons. I am not entirely sure what toddler food prep entails, but I volunteered to bring in a loaf of bread tomorrow morning.
Sometime last week, I convinced myself that this weekend would be a good weekend to do some baking and that I should bring Olive's class come home baked bread.
Taking advantage of Olive's epic weekend naps, I selected a cinnamon raisin milk bread. So far, so good. It is rising in the kitchen for the second time today. (Technically, I am making cinnamon cranberry milk bread, because I had a bag of dried cranberries and only small boxes of raisins. Although I was in the mood to fiddle with bread making, I was not in the mood to fiddle with all those little raisin boxes!)
I really hope it turns out. I do have a back up Hawaiian bread loaf that I picked up at the grocery store, just in case my homemade cranberry cinnamon milk loaf doesn't cut it.
the story of the ice cream sandwich.
9 hours ago