The heights and depths and breadths of...well, bread

I pride myself on being a pretty good baker. My sour cream banana bread always gets rave reviews, and my cookie repertoire is quite impressive. It doesn't stop there: muffins, scones, scratch cakes and brownies...all are within my power to whip up at a moment's notice.

But truth be told, my sweet rolls are hit-or-miss. Sometimes they're near-perfection, but sometimes not even close. My Parker House Rolls are usually decent, but could be better. And my regular loaf bread is...well, inconsistent at best, and really awful at times.

I've had great bread, baked by others. So I know what really great bread tastes, feels, and smells like. And now I'm on a quest to find out the secrets of making great bread. Consistently great bread.

If I get a Dutch oven for my birthday this week (and just in case my DH is reading this blog, please make that a 5- or 6-quart red one with molded handles and the self-basting lid, pretty please - doesn't have to be LeCreuset, but Lodge would be nice ;o), I will try my hand at this NYT No-Knead Bread recipe. Apparently I've been living in a cave for the past 3-plus years, while this one made the rounds (and loaves) of bread-making circles.

But I don't plan to stop there: sourdough starter starts today. Artisan breads-- from super-crusty to super-soft--here I come.

While we're still technically in the throes of winter, (as witnessed by this beautiful shot taken today by DD), I hope to experiment with all sorts of shapes, textures, and types, and techniques for bread-making. Guess my running shoes will also be getting some mileage, cuz that's just how I roll.

The mad dash to nowhere

This weekend was to be our youth group's annual ski trip weekend. Part or all of our family have attended this weekend for the past 8 years, which I think qualifies it as a bona fide family tradition.

As with most trips, I procrastinated on packing and other last-minute activities until the 11th hour. (I work better under the pressure of a looming deadline. Really.)

Now, most of the time, our local snowstorm predictions are nothing more than free advertising for the grocery stores, who get an influx of sales on bread and milk anytime the word "snow" is mentioned by a meteorologist. (Sometimes I really suspect there's a racket at work there...)

This time, the prognosticators were right on the money. We got hit, and hit hard. The system that laid down ice and sleet across Oklahoma and Arkansas yesterday marched into the midstate area. By mid-morning, snow began falling - beautiful, fluffy flakes. Within a few hours, it was flurrying furiously. A 5-mile trip home after DD's piano lesson took half an hour, much of it crawling on snow-covered surface streets. Note to city crews: deicer is no match for snow falling at a rate of an inch or two an hour. A for effort, though.

We struggled home (after making the mandatory side trip to the grocery store) and wondered if the trip would be called off. Sure enough, the call came mid-afternoon: ski trip officially canceled. Boo. It's probably the prudent choice, and and certainly welcome news for nervous parents concerned about putting their teens on a bus headed into a blizzard; but disappointing news nonetheless.

To add insult to that injury, now I'm scrambling for cooking inspiration - I was kind of looking forward to a weekend away from the kitchen. Hmmm. Wonder if the pizza places are delivering tonight?

3.75 @10.54 min/mi = tired to the nth degree

I should have just sucked it up and ran the last 1/4 mile, but my legs and feet (and back!) were tired, so I stopped short of my goal. Whimper, whimper. But it did feel really good to get in *almost* 4 miles this morning. And I'm finally hitting a good stride - just a few more clicks and I'll be at 10 minutes/mile. I'll never be the fastest runner in the world, but I'm zeroing in on a respectable pace, all things considered (like my advancing age, the relatively short length of time I've been running, how seriously I take it, etc.)

The local weathermen are predicting a snowfall of epic proportions tomorrow. Histrionics to boost ratings, probably. But along with everyone else in the southeastern U.S. (and parts of the Midwest), I will be hitting the grocery store today and hoping the weather holds up so we can make it to Perfect North tomorrow night without incident.

I guess I should stock up on potatoes while I'm grocery shopping - the pooch has decided she's soooo hungry she is willing to steal potatoes from the pantry and gnaw on them when I'm not looking. This morning, I nearly tripped over a spud lying on the floor near her second bed (yes, the princess has two beds.) It had doggy slobber on it, so it had to be her. (Plus she just looked guilty. And hungry.) Dieting is fit for neither man nor beast, it would seem...