Bread and Horror

Last night I whipped up two batches of cranberry walnut brioche.  I used ten eggs and one pound of butter.  Hey, nobody said this was health food.  But I contend that because it doesn’t use any unpronounceable ingredients, it is probably still better for you than Wonder Bread.  (For those in urban settings who don’t know what I’m talking about, it’s known to you hip youth as “Wonda Bread”.) 

I also tried out my first mini loaf of the no-knead dough that’s been sitting in the fridge.  “I’m so smart, I don’t even need to check the recipe again, it’s so simple!”

Uh huh.  I let it rise for 20 minutes straight out of the fridge instead of 40, with the result that the interior was still quite cool so the yeast had plenty of time to grow…and grow…and then burst forth from the top of the loaf like a stripper from a bachelor party cake.  Sorry, this is a family site.  I meant to say like a juvenile alien from its host human’s chest cavity.  YAHHHHHHHH!


See, this is what I get for not reading the directions.  The bread came out quite tasty, if a bit salty.  I think this is because as the dough ferments it creates its own salts, so I could probably cut the recipe amount by a third or half.  I’m going to try to make pizza from this dough.  With a scorching hot stone, splatterific tomato sauce, and stringy onions and fleshy tomatoes, I’ll bet I can make the pizza look twice as scary as the bread.  Double dare me?

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