I inherited a bread machine for use over the summer. It’s convenient, because you get to dump all the ingredients in at once, and the machine takes care of the rising and baking and timing of everything for you. You can even tell it to hold the ingredients for a few hours before it bakes. I like to time it perfectly so that I wake up at 6 am to warmly baked bread, as so:
Just kidding. That was actually like eating a rock. This is what I was going for:
My roommate called it the best bread she’s ever had! And she shops at Panera Bread, and only dines on bagels if they’re New York style. . Never mind that I let a machine do all the work– I basked in that compliment for about a week. Then I tried to reproduce it with raisins and 2% milk instead of soy:
I sent a picture to my mother. I thought she might give me bread making tips. But she has this deadpan sense of humor that only comes out when she texts, and by way of consolation replies: “Success.”
Ah well. Once I wrench out that mixing blade, it is still going to be edible, even if my roommate just went out again to buy New York style bagels.