Science is a new view.
I've been at it for a while and so far, I've been happy to eat everything I've made, and what could be better than that? So I'm not a cook, but I cook and I'm working on it.
Today, I baked my first bread. The kiss of the boulangere. A simple white bread, excellent. Bread is special. Now I know it is possible. I must have it again.
And now, it is two days later and First bread was excellent, magical. My idea, at least, of what a white bread should be. And pure luck. And now,
I, Western Man, must master it, make it mine.
Today, on round 2, I discovered that I hadn't written down quite everything. How much water? Fortunately, even a rank amateur could recognize that the dough I got was a bit runny; and after getting my proportions straight, I ended up with the paste for 2+ loaves and no bowl to hold it. Of course, I didn't know the bowls were too small until they overflowed in the oven.
After an emergency call with my bread guru, I divided the dough into halves.
|Waiting for Fire|
|Dough in the Clouds|
So now it has happened. I will seek the perfect loaf, I know it is there, I have tasted its goodness and my quest is clear. I must rediscover the perfect loaf and learn to perform the rituals in the kitchen to share her deliciousness again. I see the perfect loaf everywhere, in the sky, on the rack. Just out of reach.