Est. Noon

Today my hands got very sticky with flour, egg, honey, salt, yeast, water, dill, and onions.

For the first time in my life I am making bread by hand. And it is completely awesome.

The event is that someone had a baby and they don't like fruit or caramel [which I cannot comprehend]. "I will make you bread," I thought to myself. And so I am. While babysitting yesterday, I scoured through The Joy of Cooking (and felt like Julia's betrayer), and came across a recipe for Dill Bread. My heart pounded, my eyes got big, and a large smile stretched across my face.

And so here I am, waiting for the precious dough to rise. I have stirred and kneaded it, pounded and rolled it. And now the ingredients sit together as they rise in the noonday sun and I sit here on my computer, catching whiffs of dill and onion from my fingers as I type.

This, perhaps, is epic. I have already started to plan for how I can work homemade bread into my schedule, and I have daydreamed about this experience morphing into my very own bread business.

Homemade bread is simply my favorite thing to eat.

Homemade bread is wonderful.

I will conquer homemade bread.