Some mornings when I was young, I would wake to hear the tell-tale noises of bread making.

I would pad out to the kitchen table in my pajamas and watch my mom knead out the bread dough.  The flour  formed little clouds, the old table creaked as she pulled and pushed the dough, folded, then pulled and pushed the dough again. I would gather the excess flour and push it together to create a hill. If I pushed it together really tall, I created what I called a “B.C. Ferry.” (A boat, not a fairy.) It was a special time in the morning with my mom.

This morning, after I finished my Power Squadron homework (a boating course I’m taking), I decided today was a cozy day to make bread. I took out my favourite bread book; Williams-Sonoma “Bread.” To me, a really good cookbook is one that has really nice pictures. The delicious photographs entice you to try whatever it is that they suggest. This is a really good cookbook.

My favourite bread out of this book is “Challah,” A Jewish braided egg bread. Alas, I am out of eggs. So I decided upon Old-Fashioned White Bread.

I decide what type of bread I’m making a few different ways. This one was chosen by what I had in the cupboard. I know, making white bread is as unfashionable as toe-socks these days. But I still wear toe-socks and I still bake white bread every now and then. And, Marc just made whole-wheat sourdough so we needed some variety on our counter.

Let me paint you this picture properly.

It is raining torrentially outside. It has been raining for two days. The raindrops are fat and falling thickly. The cats didn’t even last long outside.

Tracy Chapman is crooning.

The wood stove is bellying a healthy heat.

I’m in my coziest clothes and the dishes are done.

The bread is now rising on the counter.

Could I get much happier?

Happy Rainy Monday!

When Marc and I lived in Victoria, we were reading about sourdough bread. A friend of mine, Karina, and I decided to try this fermented bread because we were fascinated by having a living organism in our fridge that we had to remember to feed and nurture.

I let her go first in the experiment and then followed enthusiastically. I created Horatio. I decided to name my sourdough culture something heroic to give it strength to survive. I mixed in a cup of water and a cup of unbleached flour and let it sit out in a warm place for a couple days. It fermented and the basement suite started to smell like beer and yeast. It was rather homey, but a little gross.

I baked a couple loaves with good ol’ Horatio. But then I didn’t clean out his little home very well one time, and a war started between him, the intentional culture and a culture very much uninvited, the Green Mold! So Horatio surrendered and was flushed down the toilet.

Recently, we were given another sourdough culture, which has been going for quite some time. It has travelled internationally, across the southerly border, and is living quite contentedly in our fridge.

Meet Horatio II.

Usually he is not this big but he was added to in preparation for baking a loaf. This is Marc’s first loaf of bread he’s baked. He did a fantastic job. It is moist, chewy, sour and perfect for cinnamon toast.

The only ingredients in this loaf is flour, water and salt. It is definitely a cost-effective approach to food.

Bon Appetite!

Labour day was started in Canada in 1880. It was started when the Typographical Union went on strike, refusing to work a 58 hour work week. They compromised when the companies said that they could work a 54 hour work week instead.

It is tradition after Labour Day weekend to wear white.

Does hoisting a white sail count?

Despite weather conditions being less than ideal, we cast off and tried stretching our sails out for the first time.

My lovely husband asked me, as I doned the green life jacket, “Did you choose the most decrepit life jacket on purpose?”

….Maybe…

We didn’t go too far, as the weather man was calling for gale force winds, patches of fog, possible lightening and rain. Could it get more pessimistic? But no thanks to the weather man, we had a great little toodle about in the bay.

Now that the sailor in me is appeased for the day, I’m off to bake challah and talk movies at the film group I accidentally joined.

Happy Labour Day!

Nothing’s better than home-made pizza. Of course this is a matter of opinion. But really, having pizza come out of the oven that you made, crust, tomato sauce, cheese and all. This dream has not become my reality yet… But I still have hope.

To compensate, we make our own crust, our own cheese and we get to pick our toppings without having to be charged $2.95 for each additional ingredient. No thank you!

Pizza making has become a combined effort in the house. Marc cuts the veggies, cooks the meat if necessary and I work on the crust. It works wonderfully. Then we’re both eagerly checking on dinner to ensure we capture the perfect moment when the crust has browned, the cheese has melted and the sauce bubbles up on the corners.

We love pizza. And no, we don’t deliver.

So at the inspiration and encouragement of my dear friend, I have begun sprouting…

I mentioned this casually to friends of mine with a twinkle in my eye, and one says “oh you’re using your Mom’s sprouter?” The other says “When are you due?”

ha. ha.

Anyway so I took store-bought quinoa (my new favourite grain) and put it in a mason jar, with a square of cheese cloth and screwed the ring around it tight. I seem to be swimming in cheese cloth these days but any meshing will work. Then I soaked the quinoa for 20 minutes, then rinsed. I continued rinsing every 8-12 hours for three days and voila! They sprouted. Like a rainbow too! The little stems were red, yellow, green. Then I took these lovely lively little plants and I cooked ‘em to the death!

I perused past this blog in my internet travels, reading about sprouting and I came across sprouted quinoa and honey bread.

Mine didn’t look quite like this loaf. Hers is puffier. But it tastes good. Earthy, planty, healthy. I know, none of these words make you salivate. But really, toasted with honey, it’s a treat. We also made labneh recently (Yoghurt cheese) and the satisfaction of eating two products you made yourself, well, let’s just say it’s just irrevocably satiating.

And the dough looks like it has tails of a rainbow.