Not exactly a glamorous start to a list of projects, but I let my mind wander with thoughts of my wife coming home to a house smelling of fresh baked bread and wow-ing her with the most delicious combination of yeast and flour that she has ever tasted.
"Wow, baby. I had a horrible day today. Work sucked, my knees are killing me, but this bread here, it just makes everything OK," she'd say, cutting herself another slice.
With these illusions of grandeur filling my head, I took a look at the recipe and thought to myself, "Recipes are just guidelines, right? What does Betty Crocker know about cooking? Not only will I bake this bread, I will improve upon it!"
And that is how for my first time ever baking bread I ended up with a loaf that shared more traits with a cement brick than a baked good. It would seem that your first time baking is not the time for improvisation.
I should have known better than to even try. I like cooking, but I hate touching food. It seems that kneading is a fairly important part of the bread-making process and my technique is more "tentatively poking something gross" than Paula Dean-style culinary prowess.
But you know what? I did it. I somehow managed to make semi-edible bread. That is something to be celebrated. And how best to celebrate? A Goal #1-themed party complete with grilled cheese and peanut butter toast and bruschetta. Feel free to stop by and join the party. My wife would appreciate it if you could swing by the store and pick up some bread on your way.