Beauty and the Yeast..........PART TWO

As promised, here is a tale about my recent attempts at breadmaking..............

Why did I decide to have a go?

FIRSTLY.................

Home baked bread is healthier; you know what has gone into each loaf if you make it yourself.

SECONDLY..............

Baking bread is supposed to be therapeutic.

All that pummelling and "knocking down" can be directed to any of our enemies or detractors we may choose, if only in our imagination.

THIRDLY...............

Breadmaking skills could be useful if we have another Winter like last year. I will not have to resort to those batons of glorified fluff that masquerade as "partly baked loaves."

It will also be something different for my neighbour, Tracy, to try.

(You may remember that Tracy thinks my pantry is her very own corner shop. She "pops in" whenever she runs out of food!)

But...........FOURTHLY, and most importantly................

The Bread Mix was on offer at Sainsbury's!

(Did I mention, I'm a bit of a tight-wad?)

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As some of you may know, I live alone.

Not that I mind.

Sometimes, I can go 4 or 5 days and never see or speak to another living soul.

Unless, that is..........I decide to do something useful.

Perhaps I want to undertake a project where I don't wish to be disturbed. At such times, it seems I am plagued with all sorts of characters trying to disrupt my attempts at doing something useful.

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Last Wednesday, I'd decided to try out the Bread Mix. It was such a day.

I'd barely put on my pinny, before there was a knock at the door.

I sighed......................

I opened the door................

"Whaddya want?" I asked gruffly..........

"Five quid. I've just cleaned your upstairs windows.

You sound a bit harassed, missus. Is everything alright?"

"Sorry about that, Spidey. I'm just starting to make a loaf of bread. I didn't mean to lose me temper." I said, giving him a fiver.

"Wow! Clever old you," he said. "There's nothing like home made fresh bread."

Blinded by his flattery, I said, "Come back at 3 o'clock. I'll make a cuppa and you can try some."

"Thanks, I will," he said, and quickly scaled the wall to his next customer.

I went back to the kitchen.

Just as I finished getting everything out of the cupboard, there was another knock on the door.

I wiped my hands and went into the hall.

I peeped through my little spyhole.

Now, I could have pretended that I was out.

But, I opened the door as I was brought up to be polite.

(And anyway, she'd already seen the flash of my pinny through the glass in the door!)

"Yes?" I asked.

"Do you ever worry about the state of the world?" she asked, thrusting a magazine under my nose.

"Yes, I do worry about it sometimes. Unfortunately, I can't discuss it with you right now. I'm in the middle of making some bread."

"Making some bread?" she asked, excitedly. She was now dribbling and continued,

"There's nothing like home made fresh bread. I bet it will be scrummy"

She stood there.................

................staring at me.............

................expectantly.............

"I tell you what," I said, "Pop back at 3 o'clock. I'll let you try some."

She left, skipping along the garden path.

As I went back to the kitchen and started mixing and pummelling, it suddenly dawned on me that I may not have enough butter for my two guests.

I looked out of the window to see if the milkman was still in the street.

Yep, he was still there.

"Aye up Ernie!" I shouted waving my arms about. "Can I have some best butter?"

"Best butter?" he asked with disbelief in his voice. "You're pushing the boat out, aren't you. Have you gone off Sainbury's basic buy soft spread then, or have you won the Lottery?"

"Neither." I said, "I'm making some home made bread and I've got company coming later to try it."

Ernie passed me the butter.

"Fancy that!" he said. "You. Actually baking, ha ha ha!"

Ignoring his cheeky remarks, I asked

"Why don't you come back at 3 o'clock and join us?"

"Thanks, missus, I will," he said. " After all, there's nothing like home made fresh bread!"

**************

Crikey, this was almost turning into a party.

After mixing it, kneading it, letting it rise, and then doing it all again - I put the loaf in the oven.

Just as my kitchen timer went "ping", someone was ringing a bell out in the street.............

.................and shouting...................

"Any old rags! Any old rags!"

It was the rag and bone man.

He jumped down off his horse, and walked down the side of my house to the open back door.

"Hello, luv. Got any old rags?" he asked, looking at my clothes hanging on the washing line.

"No, sorry. I haven't." I said.

He looked at all the Primark and charity shop clothes on the line again.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

I nodded. He threw back his head and sniffed.

"What's that smell?" he asked.

"That'll be the horse poo on your wellies," I said, pointing downwards.

"Not THAT smell!" he tutted. "The smell coming from your oven."

"Oh, I've made some bread this afternoon." I told him.

"Really?" he stared at me, hopefully.

"OK, leave your wellie boots out there and go upstairs and wash your hands. You can stay and try some if you like." I said.

"Thanks, I will," he said. "There's nothing like home made fresh bread!"

Off he went and within the next few minutes, my other guests arrived.

Spidey, the window cleaner

Mrs Jehovah's Witness

and Ernie the milkman.

I sliced the bread, buttered it and passed it around.

We all took a great big bite...................

What was the verdict?

....................

.........................

...............well...................

................after we'd tasted it...................

...............we were all agreed................

................it was absolutely................

...........NOTHING LIKE HOME MADE FRESH BREAD!.................

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Don't forget to pop back!

Beauty and the Yeast..........PART ONE

Hello my dear Bloggeroos!

I know that I promised a tale about my recent endeavour into the world of ........................

Breadmaking!

Now, before I tell you about the bread, it's worth repeating parts of a previous post for you to read.

This will give you an idea just how crap I have been at baking in the past.

...........................

The year was 1986.............

My boys were aged 4 and 7 and I had been bullied, (by the Playground Mafia,) into making some cakes for the PTA "Bring and Buy" stall.

In the nick of time, my friend, Maggie, had come to the rescue and given me a huge dollop of "Friendship Cake."

Now, I don't know if you're familiar with this cake, but basically.................

1. Someone gives you a bowl of what can only be described as "GOO."

2. You feed the goo every couple of days or so with cups full of flour and sugar.

3. This "feeds" the mixture until it triples in size.

4. You then split it into three. One lot you keep and carrying on feeding, one you bake, and the third part you give to a friend. (Who then "feeds" it, etc. etc.)

Well........I had the idea, that instead of giving any away, or baking any, I would just keep "feeding" it right up to the day the cakes were expected by the PTA. I could then make THREE cakes.

BIG MISTAKE!

(is that giggling I can hear?)

Before I knew where I was, the mixture had outgrown the kitchen.

It had a very strong yeasty smell, and I had used up 3 mixing bowls and several more belonging to the neighbours...................

I rushed outside,

.......and dragged the boys' paddling pool into the kitchen.

I chucked in loads of the mixture.

It was continuing to grow................

I 'phoned Mum,

(as yer do in these circumstances.)

"Mumsie, help me, please................"

After she finally stopped laughing, she asked to speak to Eldest Son, Ali.

"Right Lad," she said, "Get the largest paper bag you can find."

ALISTAIR: Nanny, this cake stuff is EVERYWHERE. It won't fit in a paper bag.

MUMSIE: It's not for the cake, it's for your Mum.

She needs to breathe in and out of it, she's hyperventilating. I'll be round in a minute.

EFFECTS: Wonder Woman Theme Tune playing in the background.

Mumsie arrived on my doorstep, she had run all the way from 3 streets away.

As she stopped, there was the noise of brakes screeching because behind her, she was dragging her trusty old shopping bag on wheels.

She has brought with her six mixing bowls, 17 cake tins, extra flour, dried fruit, and 3lbs of best butter.

She had half a bottle of brandy, too.

(The brandy was for me!)

She had brought her large wooden spoon.

(Like this one, but with "Go Faster" stripes.)

Within 20 minutes, Peace ruled supreme!

So, Mumsie had rolled up her sleeves, emptied my freezer of all the out of date stuff.

She divided the Goo into workable sizes.

She put 3 lots of the Goo into the freezer as we realise it's one way to curtail its growth.

Mum shouts over the garden walls to all of me neighbours.

"We have an Emergency situation, please preheat your ovens to Gas mark 4 - NOW!"

A couple of points here...................

No-one says "No" to Mumsie, many have tried believe me.

If Mum had been partnered to Winston Churchill in 1939,

the War would have been over by Christmas!

Altogether, we managed to make and bake 8 cakes.

(We also discovered that the Goo stopped growing when subjected to 140 degrees Centigrade.)

Luckily I lived only four doors away from the school, so I loaded up the old pram with cakes and delivered them to the PTA Committee.

To say that the the "A" lister Mums were impressed would have been an understatement.

They made comments like:

"WOW!"

"WELL DONE!"

and

"What IS that she's wearing?"

I placed the cakes on the table, a proud lump in my throat and tears of joy in my eyes.

But............................

............ I've had a phobia of anything yeast based ever since.

DON'T FORGET TO POP BACK FOR PART TWO, WILL YOU?

No Flies on Me!

Hello my dear Bloggeroos!

I have now returned from my journey up North.

When I returned last week, I was just about to read through my mail, when I realised that there was an intruder in my living room...................

"Oh No! How awful!"

I hear you cry.............

Please don't worry, my dear friends.

I am a Woman of Substance.............

I have NO fear............

I always make sure I have my FIVE A DAY

(Gosh! This new medication is wonderful stuff!)

Luckily, I am trained in Self Defence and my late partner, Liam, left me his old Motorbiker's Leathers.

So, without further ado, I nipped round the back of the sofa and slipped them on..........

They were a bit tight........but I managed to slip them on over my Janet Reger silk undies by using some of my favourite moisturiser............

(Note to self: Cut down on those chocolate Waggon Wheels.)

I came out looking just like Cathy Gale in the Avengers.............

I did.......HONEST!

I ran across to the intruder, rolled up copy of Country Life in hand...................

............and I whacked him,

and whacked him,

and whacked him again.............

I looked down........................

There he was.........................

Lying dead..............

on me tufted Wilton....................

The only thing left to do now, is to dispose of the body.....................................

....................................

.............

I HATE spiders, don't you?

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