At least, it didn’t explode!

Today is bread day. I bake my loaf of bread for the following week every Friday. It is an old-fashioned European process consuming several hours actually starting the evening before.

So, Thursday evening, I mix what is called a poolish – vernacular for it’s supposed origin in Poland centuries ago. A very wet mixture, half flour, half water, barely an eighth of a teaspoon of yeast … the whole critter allowed to mumble to itself for 8-12 hours … covered in plastic wrap so no spiders or other critters fall in overnight. By Friday morning, the poolish is ready to be mixed with the remaining flour, water, salt and yeast to make the completed dough.

In our home, that’s called Jabba. :-]

I left it sitting out on the counter, last night. Didn’t get round to starting the end process till morning sunlight had already begun streaming in the East windows into our kitchen. The result is above.

One thought on “At least, it didn’t explode!

  1. Larraburu says:

    May 16 is the Feast Day of St. Honore, patron saint of bakers
    “Saint Honoré was a sixth-century French bishop who earned his status as patron of bakers and pastry chefs through several alleged bread-related miracles. Legends tell of baking implements magically transforming into trees, divine eucharist-distributing hands appearing at mass, and saintly relics ending droughts that had impacted wheat crops. For amateur pastry chefs, these miraculous acts may seem more feasible than making the complex cake that carries St. Honoré’s name.”

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