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Now, I could have called this "At the Breadscape Café..." with "... you can talk about anything" — or "anything you knead to" as one wag suggested — but then somebody — I'm not naming names — would have felt compelled to say that I'm relying too much on open threads, as if I hadn't done the photographs at all. The open threadiness ought to be appreciated as an extra dimension to the photography posts, to give you something to talk about other than whether it is or is not a nice photograph. But I've got other mountains to climb. So I'm calling this "Breadscape."
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40 comments:
Ann wrote:
" but then somebody — I'm not naming names — would have felt compelled to say that I'm relying too much on open threads"
Ahhh but half a loaf is better than no loaf at all.
"Ahhh but half a loaf is better than no loaf at all."
It's Saturday and we all are just loafing around.
Whenever my brother-in-law comes to dinner he brings a loaf or two of the sort of bread depicted in the photos. He buys it in Manhattan and I assume it is very expensive.
A week or two ago he brought two loaves that had these big, scaly, burned, horn-like structures on the outside and hazelnuts and apricot shards on the inside. I think before it went in the oven, the bakers must have tossed it on the pavement out front and shoved it around with a push broom.
I believe that sort of bread is sold as “artisanal” bread, or maybe “rustic,” but we all know that means “peasant” which means “inferior” or “unfit for civilized persons.”
I resist such empty yuppie booshwah and I absolutely refuse to eat it . . . as a form of PROTEST!
But then, inevitably, I get enough to drink in me and I end up eating it anyway.
And kind of liking it, truth be told.
So it goes.
trooper...
i think, based on your comment above (which i am loafed (sic!) to quote) that you perhaps need to start dating within the species...
Not to be too "Annthropomorphic" (or, more precisely, Meadethropomorphic?), but in the second picture it looks like one of the "loaves" woke up next to the other one with "morning cruller".
They should have separate bread boxes!
One of the classic radio bloopers was the commercial tag ``the best in bread'' coming out ``the breast in bed.''
Hey house,
You really should leave the loaf posts to Titus.
As to interspecies dating, how are your sheep doing? Stay away from the pigs; Swine Flu, you know.
Also reminds me of the Cialis "gratuitous" bathtub in nature ads, except it's a... picnic bench.
Okay, I'll stop now.
Great photos! I think talking of breasts is taking things too far. The photos are a nice way of looking at something as ordinary as bread.This is Benjamin from Israeli Uncensored News
Trooper,
Surely you aren't expecting people to feel sorry for you.
Bread stuffing, anyone?
I bet the raisin bread would make good bread pudding!
Pudding or pudenda.
Both have their uses.
Either?
You know . . . like the either bunny!
Some days there's blogging here on the blog. Other days, loafing around between episodes of hay rolling!
OMG, Trooper I know that place!
D'oh! Someone --I'm not naming names--can dish it (to folks like RLC) but seems to get a little crusty at taking it. Climb every mountain, Baby. Ford every stream. Follow every rainbow...Say hi to David Gates. Baby. I'm-a Want You.
Bread making is an artisanal endeavor that takes 8 hours when done right. I like the sour dough breads the best. And then there is the bread of life that comes down to us as a free gift. Until bread making was invented, meats, fish and milk products, with a few berries thrown in, was about it.So let's celebrate Bread Day and break a loaf together.
Leave the bunny nest alone. pic.
There's a half dozen of the things loose now. They abandon a discovered nest, which is great for escaping a wolf or cat but not great for getting fed each night when the threat is a merely curious Doberman.
The I-don't-see-any-bunny defense.
No bunnies anywhere around here.
I used to rescue them but they're extremely ungrateful and remain wild even if you've hand fed them for a few weeks, and then you have the problem where to release them.
One year I carried one to work each day in a shirt pocket so as to arrange feedings. He was no tamer.
Nature's plan is that almost all of them get eaten before they get very old, which is how you can have 50 babies a year and not increase the rabbit population.
HelenParr mentioned "Baby I’m-a Want You."
And all I can say is "wow."
And by that I mean . . . I swear to God . . . that brings back some really uncomfortable memories.
I must have been maybe a freshman in high school and my mother despaired at my father’s rather obvious extramarital affairs and she played that album over, and over, and over again, except sometimes she would play albums by Lobo or Mac Davis or sometimes, when she was feeling brave, Helen Reddy.
She became a raging alcoholic, popping Valium, breaking down into a sobbing mess for no apparent reason. Her emotional instability was pretty rough on my younger brother and sister.
God, I’ll never forget the time she got really loaded and she said I should stop being afraid of girls so she tried to teach me how to dance in the Rec Room. She put on a record and she called me “her little Paul McCartney” and she started to grind her hips into me but that’s when I pushed her away.
She passed out pretty soon after that.
True story.
But it’s my fault.
After all, I’m the one who inherited my father’s pheromones.
This is all so terribly, horribly, incredibly, compellingly, astoundingly, coincidental and interesting to me.
Friday an attractive and extremely manipulative woman used her Jedi mind tricks and hypnotic necromancy on me and forced me to agree to cater her party. Plus she made me think I wanted to do it. She told me what her ideas were then planted the idea for me to elaborate.
The plan involves a very large about of brioche which takes a few days so must be started early. It's fermenting now.
The loaves will look a little like this. But these loaves pictured were made using the no-knead wet method but the brioche was kneaded at length by machine so will be a little more refined.
I've been away from a computer since my last turkey post last night kind of saying that Hellen was right about Althouse neglecting the blog - OMG. And of course I have been thinking "I hope I'm not missing anything big".
And then I'm home and the current post is about bread.
My Bread and Butter, which side of my bread gets buttered and the unsettling notion that Fabio could have, should have been dubbed.
Why ;)
Was there recently a brush fire on the bread slope?
This bread insists on itself.
Ohio hand-holding.
** googles Kirdy Stevens **
** feels deprived and resentful that Mom wasn’t as good looking as Kay Parker **
** laughs out loud **
[an evil, evil laugh]
Can't we have more pictures of dogs urinating please?
I wish we had more analysis of things and less posting of headlines. This place is becoming like Instapundit but with comments. It makes me wonder if Althouse is just busy, or if she's holding back, bored with blogging, or maybe even trying to fake it.
The commenters are doing the heavy lifting here. Maybe the name of the blog should be changed to "Commenters with Ann Althouse".
What???
Clearly this employment thing has gotten in the way of me keeping up on the latest blang (I'm guessing that's entered the lexicon too by now).
Now that's some scary looking bread. Proper bread comes in white plastic adorned with a blue checkered design, damnit!
The best bread in New York is prosciutto bread from Mazzola's bakery on Henry St. Also called "lard" bread because it is made with a large component of lard and meat and spices mixed in.In Rose Levy Berenbaum's "The Bread Bible" is a recipe for a prosciutto ring. The recipe is from Zito's, another New York bakery. Very simple recipe and as it only rises once, it's quick to make.
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