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Reason to believe.
My brother wasn't available, so I baked challah for dinner tonight. I haven't done it in a long time, but a lot of it came back - the texture of the dough on its first rise, the glorious yellow color. I splurged on fancy eggs at the market this morning, fresh as I could buy, and the yolks were as orange as the fruit. I topped one of the loaves with a spice blend a friend gave me, and hours later, the apartment still smells lovely.
It's a pretty time-consuming process, especially with a somewhat temperamental oven, and I don't know if I'll be able to do it again next week, but if I am, I know how I'm topping another one of the loaves.
Ending the year baking bread isn't a bad way to see it out, really. For all that it's thrown at me, and it's thrown a lot, from the petty and disappointing to genuine problems and troubles, losing people and gaining friends, I'm still around and kicking, and I'm making something that wasn't here this morning.
It's a pretty time-consuming process, especially with a somewhat temperamental oven, and I don't know if I'll be able to do it again next week, but if I am, I know how I'm topping another one of the loaves.
Ending the year baking bread isn't a bad way to see it out, really. For all that it's thrown at me, and it's thrown a lot, from the petty and disappointing to genuine problems and troubles, losing people and gaining friends, I'm still around and kicking, and I'm making something that wasn't here this morning.
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