I was trying to think of a title for this blog and the story of the Gingerbread Boy came to mind. I am sure that you know the one – “Run, run as fast as you can, you can’t catch me…..”. I came up with this title because sometimes dough can just get away from you.
I made some bread this morning and as I was kneading it and setting it out for rising, I recalled a bread making adventure from a few years ago.
My brother and I had the great idea one day to make bread together. Yes, you are right. This is the same brother that I have written about before. He is the one who kept getting me in trouble. But to be fair, this one time it wasn’t all his fault. Have a read and see what you think.
One Summer, my brother and I attended university together in the month of July. I believe we were taking the same Science course at Summer school. We shared an apartment and one day before our afternoon class decided to go shopping for groceries.
We had gone down to the local grocery store and while walking down the frozen food section, we saw some frozen dough.
“Hey, instead of buying some bread we should make our own”, I had exclaimed to my brother. He agreed. We figured that we would save a lot of money and have fresh delicious homemade bread.
To be honest, neither one of us knew a lot about cooking back then but I had seen my mom make bread. I knew we could do it. So, we bought the economy pack that had five loaves in it.
After purchasing our groceries, we went home and unpacked our groceries. We kept the frozen dough loaves out of the fridge because we knew that the dough needed to thaw before baking. We would bake when they had thawed.
But first, we did have our afternoon Science class that we had to dash off to. So we kept the package in the grocery bag on the kitchen counter. We’d bake after class.
I’m pretty sure you already know what happened.
After we returned from our one hour lecture, the dough had thawed. In fact, it was not only thawed, but it had risen very well. The dough had split open its plastic wrapping and splayed itself all over the counter. It covered our entire kitchen counter and rose up under the upper cupboard shelves and was slowly making its way down over the edge onto the floor! It was like an octopus sliding out of its nest. Yes, it was scary!
My brother and I now have a good laugh over this. Back then it was not funny. It was however a lesson to learn. To this day, we both recall learning about rising dough very well. We can’t say the same about that Science lecture at Summer school that we attended.
Any ads displayed at the bottom of this post are inserted by Word Press. These ads have not been selected by Petrosha and are not endorsed by petroshasblog.wordpress.com.
For many years now, I have been trying to improve my pysanky writing skills. As I mentioned in a previous post, I started writing pysanky with my mom at the age of two. I was asked last week if I have made the pysanky every year. To this I had to say no. Like many of you I started out learning the Ukrainian traditions at home when young. But as a teenager, it really wasn’t so cool to “be Ukrainian” so I stopped writing them with my mom. And as the years went by, my career took over much of my time and unfortunately I didn’t make any for a number of years. But this all changed when I became a parent myself.
petrosha's blog 