Bread and Hockey

When I was about 14 years old, I spent the night with my friend Molly Wright. For breakfast, her mother made us baking powder biscuits with honeybutter. I then knew what I would ask for as my last meal should I ever end up on death row.

Periodically since then, I have made a number of attempts at duplicating that experience. Most notably, perhaps, was the time when I was about 16 or 17 and I attempted to make baking powder biscuits for my family. Staying true to my 4-H roots, I carefully measured everything, leveled the flower with the flat side of a butter knife, measured the salt over the sink (and not the mixing bowl). In short, I followed the recipe to the letter. What resulted from that attempt became something that has haunted me to this day, no doubt in part because of the teasing and humiliation I endured as my brothers and sisters threw the biscuits on the floor and began a mock game of hockey with them. It's true, they were a little hard, but they were supposed to be hard, but not that hard, but still... To this day, any mention in front of my siblings of my baking something is like pressing the "Try Me" button on a stuffed animal in the toy aisle. I say "bake", they say "hockey pucks". It's like magic.

So, some people have hang-ups when it comes to math. Some people are just certain that they cannot dance. I have a little self-esteem issue when it comes to baking. Especially bread items. And especially, if they have anything to do with yeast.

Which is why, I am SO PROUD of myself for having made three not incredibly terrible loaves of whole wheat bread over the past two weeks. I signed up for a breadmaking class and now I am liberated of all my baking fears. That's all it took. A little positivity. A little, "You can do it, Molly." A little absence of any mention of sporting equipment. I'm soooo pioneer now.