Before starting this blog I was already experimenting with breadmaking using a breadmaker. The breadmaker came with a variety of simple directions and recipes, all in those bloody annoying American measuring units. But yankie units weren’t going to flummox a resourceful cook and statistician like myself. Somewhere in my kitchen I found one of those plastic containers which measure out a standard cup of flour.
Late at night I would add the ingredients to the machine and set the timer. I’d wake in the morning with the magical smell of bread creeping through my flat. The walk to the kitchen was exciting like Christmas. In the breadmachine would be small clumps of unmixed, unrisen and very unappetizing burnt dough balls. Six attempts resulted in six identical, spirit crushing disasters. Santa was leaving lumps of yellow coal in my Christmas stocking.
Eventually I worked out the problem. My measuring cup was designed for washing machine powder and not for cooking.
3 responses so far ↓
James // January 25, 2008 at 8:45 pm |
Didn’t know you was movin’ ounces and getting some bread. You ballin’ now nigga!
James // January 25, 2008 at 9:25 pm |
Oh, and why haven’t you namechecked your major breadmaking influence Timmy?
Don’t forget to clear those internet cookies!
Pimping My Ride | syntaxfree // December 4, 2009 at 4:29 pm |
[...] rather than his miscellaneous daily humiliations, but don’t fret, some of his entries so far suggest that the two are surprisingly [...]