In order to save a little money and because it simply tastes better, I've been baking my own bread. Besides, have you ever read the ingredients on a loaf of store bought bread? High fructose corn syrup? Calcium propionate? Sodium stearoyl lactylate? WTF? No thanks. So I dragged the bread machine out of the basement, gave it a permanent place in my kitchen and put it to work.
Some people might say, "A bread machine? Isn't that cheating?" Well, folks, this is the modern age and I am not above making my life easier through the use of technology. Whether I mix the ingredients and knead the dough by hand or plop the stuff in the machine and press a button, the end result is the same and I quite like the idea of being able to do other things while I'm waiting for a hot crusty golden brown loaf of bread to come out of the machine. Believe me, baking is fun but it's a much more magical experience for me this way rather than fussing over a ball of dough that won't rise. (happy, unharried Breda = more bread, so win-win)
Mike and I have been enjoying our little funny shaped loaves for a while now. We bake one small loaf a week and there is never any waste, unlike when we'd buy store bread and end up throwing a stale, fuzzy third of it away because we couldn't eat it fast enough. Mike has even become quite proficient at making bread himself, frequently admiring his own handiwork as he's slathering on the butter and honey.
The bread is great for sandwiches and makes excellent french toast but doesn't work so well for hamburgers. Few things look as sad on a plate as a little round hamburger between two giant slices of square bread. So I've been experimenting...
I made buns, hon.