The Little Bread That Couldn't... Rise
I'm attempting to make bread right now. I have been since about 2 o' clock. All grunt work was completed by 2:30, at which point the dough was put into its bowl and covered and left to rise. It was supposed to take about an hour. It took 3.
Why, you ask? Because my apartment is about 3 degrees away from becoming the world's first example of nuclear winter. I didn't think about that before I embarked on my bread-making adventure, though. So now the dough has been divided and shaped and I'm just waiting for the little fuckers to rise again so I can bake them already.
Comeoncomeoncomeon. At this rate I won't have bread for dinner. I'm going to need to invest in an oven-proof bowl if I want to do this again, because next time I'm sticking this shit in the oven to rise. This is freaking ridiculous. ARGH.
Why, you ask? Because my apartment is about 3 degrees away from becoming the world's first example of nuclear winter. I didn't think about that before I embarked on my bread-making adventure, though. So now the dough has been divided and shaped and I'm just waiting for the little fuckers to rise again so I can bake them already.
Comeoncomeoncomeon. At this rate I won't have bread for dinner. I'm going to need to invest in an oven-proof bowl if I want to do this again, because next time I'm sticking this shit in the oven to rise. This is freaking ridiculous. ARGH.
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