Steve made his second attempt at a whole wheat loaf this weekend and it turned out positively amazing.
Standing slow clap, please.
I’ve been putting away some serious amounts of bread the past couple of days and I’m exhausted.
This time around the bread was less dense and crumbly (in a good way), and had such a nice familiar flavor. With the first attempt, he separated the dough into two pans for fear of it bubbling over it, realizing afterwards it wasn’t really necessary. So with this batch all in one pan, the top rounded out and crusted beautifully, creating that sandwich bread shape that feels and tastes like home. I have to say, I’m really proud of him. Homemade bread is a process, but I’d like to think the payoff is what makes it worth it. And by payoff, I mean a bread-monster fiancé with carbohydrate rage followed by an impromptu nap on the floor.
[Steve used a recipe from the 90 lb. book he bought in San Francisco called Bread Matters to make a very simple half white/half wheat loaf]
If deliciously dense, covered in butter and jelly, homemade loaves of bread aren’t quite decadent enough, let’s chat about the crispy French Toast we made tonight as part of our Breakfast for Sunday Dinner Movement. I just made that up.
To prevent what has happened the past two Sundays (accidentally polishing off the pancake batter between the two of us), we decided the best policy from here on out is to have company over to share the wealth. Enter Carly & Brian, French Toast Destroyers.
[Slight tweek: Pancake Sunday, for this week anyway, evolved into French Toast Sunday. Why? Because I make the rules around here! And as it turns out, 52 weeks of pancakes might be a bit much.]
We used Challah bread because 1) it’s the best for this recipe (or just in general?) and 2) we weren’t totally sure how the homemade loaf would fare as French Toast. For fun, we experimented with a piece of the whole wheat, and it actually had a better texture than the Challah. However, the Challah still takes the cake for flavor. Ooh, Challah Cake – must find out of this is a thing.
I always have a touch of anxiety on Sunday evenings. It means Monday is upon us and it’s time to be a grown-up again. I think that might be how this whole breakfast-at-dinner thing came about, actually – to give into a bit of regression.
It’s just that nothing brings me inner child-like peace more than warm, sugar-loaded cakes at the most unexpected of times. I’m fat in my head, aren’t I?
The bottom line is French Toast can really help a girl ease back into the work week.
Breakfast for dinner is extremely powerful like that.