Early in the pandemic, on the day I tallied up all our available food, I sent Gary out for yeast packets. He came back with this Huge Bottle O’ Yeast:
Then, eventually, four weeks into the Great Confinement, I made some bread. Such a disappointment. I made the conversion between instant and regular yeast correctly, but I added the extra quarter cup of water at the wrong time.That bread was so gummy and grey it had to be thrown away.
I’ve made yeast bread from scratch plenty of times, but this failure rocked my confidence so badly that I dug my 1990s bread machine out of the basement.
What a delight to use! I had forgotten about the clunky industrious noises it makes, and the beeps, and the smells, and how it produces a simply perfect loaf of bread. So easy! I had an egg sandwich for breakfast and I will have a peanut butter sandwich for lunch.
I may not put that machine back in the basement ever again. Of course, I will wake up bloated and achy, but I imagine Gary will chew up all the bread before I get much more of it.