French bread

When all else fails; bake.

My family can tell when I am having a bad day or bad week. I retreat to the kitchen, get out the flour, grab one of my favorite recipes and bake. Could be cookies: Grandma's oatmeal cookies (nothing like what you buy in the stores for it is an old recipe, which used lard, handed down through my father's family ) or cupcakes (Black Midnight Chocolate with Whipped butter-cream frosting that my mother used to bake) or brownies ( not that kind). Or bread. When I feel particularly down I get out my Julie Childs book and bake French Bread.

Today is French Bread day! 

Maybe it is the feel of the flour or the smell of bread rising, but when I bake bread I feel more alive. The alchemist in me reveals in taking base elements (flour, water, yeast salt) and through magick ( okay and the oven) creates the most fundamental food for the heart:. Bread! If you have not baked french bread you must!

The most simple bread: water, flour, small amount of sugar, salt and yeast. Hand rolled into banquettes and then baked until lightly brown. The best part of french bread, the part where I would call my children and ask "Do you want to hear bread sing?" is at the end. When you remove the loaves from the oven, gently set them to cool, a marvelous moment happens.  They crackle and sing to you.

It is impossible not to smile, if indeed, laugh with the wonder of it all.

Ah! then enjoying the bread you have made with the hearty vegetarian stew simmering on the stove.But another day about the stew.

The bell on the oven is chiming telling me it is time to take the baguettes out. Off to hear the loaves sing!