I'd had such good luck with yeast so far. I baked bread, and (despite it being shaped a little funny due to realizing halfway through the process that I didn't have loaf pans and having to bake it in a bundt) it went beautifully. I baked another bread, and that dough came right up like the rosy-finger'd dawn. Then, yesterday I decided I would attempt Paula Deen's cinnamon rolls, and all my luck with yeast went straight to hell.
My mother once said to me, "Anyone who says her bread has always risen, always rises, and always will is either a liar or too good a baker to be real." I am neither, and was punched soundly in the face with this knowledge yesterday when I skipped merrily across the kitchen to roll out my cinnamon roll dough and found instead of dough doubled in bulk the same sad little lump that I had originally placed in the bowl on the back of the stove.
In retrospect, I thought, this was probably because I had put too much water in with the yeast and discovered it too late and then decided I was not going to start over, no, I'd just not pour in all the water. It'll be fine, I thought. As usual, I thought wrong.
However, I did not learn anything from this initial refusal to just start over. Oh no, I was not going just scrap this entire lump of dough and try again. Oh hell no. "Surely," I thought, "the internet knows how to salvage this affair."
Upon asking the internet, though, the internet essentially pointed and laughed at my failure. If the combined baking wisdom of the internet had been an individual, it would have shrugged its shoulders and said "I dunno...make some kind of sweet-dough pizza with it? You're pretty much screwed."
Not one to be deterred by so simple a matter as the entire internet laughing at my misfortune, I said "Well, we'll just work some more yeast in there. Try out that instant yeast stuff Mum gave me. Yeah." Because after all, what was the worst that could happen? I could still have a useless lump of dough later on, and be in the exact same circumstances I already was.
And for once...for once, I did not find out what was the worst that could happen. Working in some instant yeast and a little water and a little more flour worked like a charm, the dough rose, and the rolls were beautiful and delicious. (but whoooooooagodsosweet. So far no one can eat more than half of one at a single go, even with a glass of milk.)
...which of course meant that while I was driving Betsy to choir practice, I hit a curb and blew out a tire. In the dark. And the rain. While my uncle was out of town on a business trip and unable to come to my rescue. And, of course, I bent the rim of my wheel sufficiently that I had to take the entire thing in to the shop this morning.
Never, ever say "What's the worst that could happen?"
0 comments:
Post a Comment