January 15, 2016
Dear Everyone:
I regret to inform you that I was not one of the lucky individuals
and/or groups who won the Great
Powerball Lottery
of something like a one-third share of $1,500,000,000.00, possibly
because I never quite got around to buying a ticket.
It seems like a small detail, but there you are:
“You can’t win if you don’t play.”
Quite a few years ago, when the
California Lottery reached the astronomical payout of $2,000,000.00,
a mere trifle today, I was working in a facility with a few dozen other
people. We decided to pool
all our resources and buy a large number of tickets.
Everyone put in $5.00.
Someone went out and bought a whole raft of tickets.
These were the
scratch-off kind, so everyone gathered together and rubbed off the
covers on each card. And we
won!
A grand total of 45 cents each.
Not exactly a great
Return on
Investment (ROI).
In other news…
I few weeks ago I decided to take a stab at making some
bread rolls.
There was a time, in the distant past, when I made bread on a
regular basis. It was during
my “Homemaker Phase”. I also
did homemade stews and soups, with fresh vegetables.
I obviously had a lot of free time on my hands way back then.
Making bread is actually not all that hard.
You dissolve some
yeast in warm water. Add
some scalded milk. Why
“scalded”? Before the days
of pasteurization
it helped to kill the microscopic beasties that might interfere with
your digestive system. Even
with pasteurized milk, there can be
enzymes that might
get into fights with the yeasty-beasties that are so instrumental in
making bread what it is. So
you heat the milk, then let it cool enough to encourage, without
killing, the yeast. A
microwave oven
makes this so easy these days.
The only problem, of course, is that you have to buy a whole quart of
milk, when you really only need six ounces.
That leaves 26 ounces of milk to use somewhere else.
There was a time when you could buy just a pint (16 ounces), but
the stores don’t waste shelf space on that anymore.
Anyway. Warm water, yeast,
scalded milk. Mix
thoroughly. Throw in just
the right amount of sugar, salt, shortening and flour.
Then you knead.
Kneading bread is both an art form and an excellent source of therapy.
Put your flour-covered fist in the
dough.
Fold it halfway over and give the whole thing a quarter-turn.
Now press the heel of your hand into it.
Repeat. As often as
you like. Imagine it’s your
boss, or that particularly obnoxious customer and/or co-worker.
Beat the living daylights out of it.
You can’t really hurt it and it’s great exercise.
It was at this point that I really noticed how much higher today’s
kitchen counters are than they used to be.
Fortunately, I already have a small stool that I typically use
when doing laundry, to reach the inside of the “overhead” stacked dryer.
Once you’ve worked out all your frustrations, it’s time to let the dough
rise. Simply place the glob
into a bowl that you have had the foresight to smear with grease, or
butter, or shortening of some kind.
Turn the glob over so that the grease coats it on all surfaces,
then cover with a kitchen towel and place “in a warm place” to
rise.
Back in the “Good Old Days”, people would place the bowl of dough on top
of the steam radiator,
an old-fashioned method of home heating.
A cloth-covered bowl was an indication that you knew something
about cooking. These days, I
just preheat the oven to its lowest setting, then shut it off and let it
cool to “warm”.
After about ninety minutes, the dough has doubled in size, thanks to
those ever-helpful yeasty-beasties churning out carbon dioxide.
That’s when you punch down the dough (more violence in the
kitchen) and form it into loaves or smaller roll-size pieces.
Place the rolls on greased baking sheets (there’s a lot of grease
in bread-making) and cover to
rise
again. There’s also a
lot of rising going on.
When the rolls have doubled in size again, bake in the oven at 275
degrees for about 20 to 30 minutes and voila!
Approximately two dozen overcooked, underdone vaguely
bread-flavored rocks. And a
number of kitchen towels sorely in need of laundering.
Not quite sure what happened there.
I tried blaming it on the oven.
Clearly the setting was off.
Much too hot for what it said it was.
So last week I picked up a
thermometer at
the grocery store. When I
tested the oven, it was working perfectly.
So, not the oven. Operator
error. Maybe I’ve lost my
touch after all these years.
Or maybe I just need more practice.
I still have two packages of yeast left.
And Lord knows, I have enough milk to use.
Love, as always,
Pete
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