O happy day, calloo callay!
Got my ass out of bed at 7:30 to make my shaggy dough using bread flour, yeast, water, and salt. After two less-than-stellar efforts in breadmaking, I wasn't holding out much hope for this go-round. I let the mess rise for the requisite 4 hours, folded it, let it rest for 30 more minutes before plunking it in a hot hot hot dutch oven for 45 minutes. And what did my eyes see through that oven door? A golden-crusted beauty, rustic-y and rough-hewn, waiting to be eaten. First tastes showed a crust that exploded into shards in our mouths, but after letting the loaf think about itself for a while, the crust yielded to hard, chewy perfection. Add to the mix, I got to top it with my homemade butter, thawed from the freezer and melting into its beautiful crumb. Stupid as it sounds, for this Brooklyn girl, such an accomplishment is tantamount to starting a fire with little more than flinty rocks and kindling. Further experimentation awaits.
On the yarn front, more late-breaking news: I AM KNITTING A SCARF!
Sorry, I hope your smelling salts were nearby.
Yes, you read that correctly. Knitting. As in holy crapola.
Don't get me wrong. I still have 146 crochet projects in the works. But I have been struggling with getting to a certain comfort level with the sticks and am determined to do so. I don't think its bad to have more than one language. I don't think there's anything wrong with multiple pairs of shoes. Who doesn't like ordering off the menu once in a while? I mean, how was I supposed to resist this lovely pattern from Lion Brand, beckoning in all its elegance? It does all the lovely things that knitting does so beautifully...
I haven't even cast on all the stitches yet. And who knows when it'll be done? But consider it added to the heaving pile.