BREADEQUETTE!

Kim's Buttermilk Honey Egg Bread

1 cup Buttermilk              

5 Tblspns canola oil         

1 teaspoon kosher salt

1/4 cup sugar

1/4 cup raw honey

5 cups bread flour

2 eggs

Proofing  yeast

1/4 cup warm water (warmer than body temperature)

1 tsp sugar (or honey)

1 scant tblespn yeast.

My process:

I use a breadmaker to make the bread dough.

So the process goes like this.

1.  Put 1 cup buttermilk in pan on stove to warm.

2.  Proof yeast: put warm water in small bowl with sugar or honey. add yeast  mix and allow to proof.

3. All wet type ingredients go into the breadmaker pan (and wet-solvent ingredients) (except egg)

so that would be:

  1 cup warm buttermilk

1 tsp kosher salt

1/4  cup sugar

1/4 cup honey

6 tblespns canola oil

Then on top of that:

5 cups bread flour

1 egg (beaten)

proofed yeast mixture

I set the breadmaker on "dough" setting.  I check as it is mixing to make sure it doesn't need more moisture, or that it needs more bread flour.

The "dough" setting on the breadmakers I've used mix, knead and rise the bread dough.

When it's finished will all of those processes (about 2 hours),

I divide the dough into two loaves. I allow my bread to rise (again) in a slightly warm oven (I turn on the heat at 175 for a very few moments and then turn off heat).

I allow the bread to rise until it doubles in size. Sometimes that's 1/2 hour (usually) sometimes it's up to 1 hour.

After it rises once more, I beat the other egg with a little bit of water to make an egg wash.

I remove the bread from the over and set the oven on 350 to preheat.

I brush the bread top with the egg wash and set in to bake for 1/2 hour.

When the bread is baked, I remove loaves from the bread pans and set them to cool.

I let them cool AT LEAST one hour before I put them in some sort of bag.

The best bags are paper bags. However, I rarely have them, so usually a zip-lock bag is what I put the loaves in.

Some tips:

I have two "favorite" bread pans (loaf pans) that I use all the time. They are glass.

DO NOT cut the loaves before the hour rest time (out of the oven is over).

The loaves collapse.

When we deliver a loaf to someone, I try to remember to tell them: EAT THIS NOW.

This bread (and any bread I make) --except for the sugar and salt--has no preservatives.

So it doesn't keep well.

If you have any left the next day, it IS really good for french toast, however.

------------

Some background on this recipe:

 Some people remember a company called DAK. They were responsible for bringing the first "breadmakers" into the United States.

DAK was a pre-cursor to "Sharper Image" and had many electronics one could order via mail.

The first breadmakers were created in Japan.

Drew (Allen Kaplan---aka DAK) wrote enthusiastically  about his love of "toast" and that was why he wanted to make his own bread.

I think it was in mid to late 1980's, that my family received this catalogue to sell two models of this breadmaker.

This breadmaker produced a round loaf, and the breadmaker looked a little like Star Wars R2D2.

However, in the catalogue delivered was actually in the form of a recipe book. Each recipe ended with the catch phrase "mix all ingredients and allow to rise-- be occupied with watching your bread for 4 hours...OR--throw ingredients in your breadmaker and two hours later you have BREAD!".

It was very compelling and honestly, I could almost smell the bread baking as I read the recipes.

Drooling for years over the $300 and $250 breadmaker, that I really wanted and never believed I would actually own, I kept the recipe book. I did actually use some of the recipes.

The recipe for this egg-bread was developed from a recipe from this catalogue/recipe book.

 The first breadmaker I ever owned was a "Wellbuilt" model  which was bought for me as a Christmas gift by my (then) husband, upon my request from K-Mart (where my mother worked) during one of their sales. I think it was $79. It made a 1 lb loaf. I made bread in that breadmaker for 2 years (or more). Until, one day, I couldn't get the bread pan out of the machine. The pan had super-heated to the unit, and welded to the machine. (sighs).

But I remembered that DAK machine, which had been my first breadmaker love.

A decade (and a husband) later, my husband and I were perusing a second- handstore (more like a warehouse) and there it was. I almost felt like the father from Christmas Vacation finding their live Christmas tree. It was like a celestial light fell on the Breadmaker, and an angelic choir was in-toning the chord "Ta-da!".

This DAK breadmaker was only $50. Amazing piece, that , until earlier this year, I used a great deal to bake bread.

Oddly, this passion for bread-making and bread-makers gave way to my collecting bread making books and breadmakers (mostly second-hand, or previously loved bread-makers). I found some of these at the Good Will and other thrift stores.

I have two other things to share with you that my passion has brought into my life.

First, after reading a great amount of reviews of breadmakers, I developed a new love.

I read about a Zoyjarushi breadmaker, which came in several  models.  The reviews were fabulous, and it made a standard loaf-shaped loaf. I wanted another 1lb loaf maker for making sample loaves and just for Walt and I in our own home. But Zoyarushi also had a model that made a 2-2 1/2  lb loaf as well.

This model was also amazingly expensive. $300 and up for this breadmaker.

However, a few years later, what did I find in our CITA Thrift shop? a Zoyjirushi  1 lb model.  All of the parts were there, and it cost me $5. Found another model Zoyirushi, 2 1/2 lb model, same Cita Thrift Store, a few months later, same price.

One of the good things about this happening at this time is that one can find the user manuals online for specific models of appliances. So I even have user manuals for these breadmakers.

Another element that I would offer,  is that a breadmaker, the smell of baking bread was a sign for Walt and I that we had found our home church.   We had not been attending Emmanuel United Methodist church in Melbourne very long, before World Communion Sunday was on the calendar. I walked into our sanctuary and smelled that familiar fragrant smell of baking bread. Our pastor had arranged for someone to bake bread  in the sanctuary (on holy ground) for World Communion Sunday.  I walked up to a familiar breadmaker and realized we were home.

 A last bit of information in this, too long ,missive.

Bread-making has become a very important aspect of Walt and my ministry to people, all kinds of people.  A book on bread-making coined the term "Breadequitte"  to which I latched on.

The concept is very simple and neighborly. Breadequitte is the idea, that since one is going to the effort of making bread anyway, made enough for two loaves.  So that when you make the bread, you have one loaf to keep, and one to share with a neighbor or friend--or new friend.

When I make bread, I often know to whom the second loaf is going, and think of them as I shape the loaf and bake it.

Until next time,

Eat something delicious

and live a life worth loving.

-Kim

Today, I want Ice Cream

My cousin, Lee Ann Morgan died on Monday. She was 61.

At first glance, I think some people might think she did not live a remarkable life.

Some people would be wrong.

At the age of 16 she began working at the Dairy Queen in Shadyside, Ohio.

She, later managed and bought the Dairy Queen there.

Shadyside, by the way, is a very tiny down, just over the river from Wheeling, WV.

She was born in Bellaire, and was confirmed deceased in Bellaire Hospital.

In that way (and excuse me if you find this blasphemous) she was much like Jesus.

Much of her works (like Jesus) were accomplished within a fifty mile radius of where she lived.

Like Jesus, Lee Ann fed the masses from a very small location.

Like Jesus, Lee Ann drew young people to her, and they were made better, simply by associating with her.

This week hundreds of people mourn my cousin, Lee Ann's passing.

So many have said they will miss her . Like Jesus, she was taken too soon from us.

My husband said "I'm sure she would have been head of the chamber of commerce, maybe even Mayor of Shadyside, like her dad.". Honestly, I think Walt was most impressed with what was in Lee Ann's freezer, when we visited over a year ago.

You see, like many people who loved Lee Ann, I associate her with a particular miracle,

 to which Jesus did not lay claim.

Ice Cream.

Lovely, cool, velvety, sweet, soft serve Ice Cream.

Lee Ann made ice cream for the community.

Sometimes she gave it away (on special occasions, like when the Tigers won).

She always brought it home. She served to her family.

Once, I saw her give an entire line of people who were waiting at the DQ window (including myself) Ice Cream (and other food treats).

By simply opening the DQ in the spring, Lee Ann made hot days cooler, sad days sweeter, and ordinary days special days.

She did many things for her community, and she knew how to love her family and friends.

However so many of us will remember her for this one miracle : Ice Cream.

I think, when she found herself at the gates of heaven, St. Peter said to Jesus

"A special arrival at the gates, Lord.

The arrival is lovely and cool, with a sweet smile".

and Jesus greeted her with Peter and said "My Lee Ann is home.".

My friend, Steve.

When I entered (Satellite) High School, I was very short. I'm short now, but believe it or not, I was shorter in High School. I think I was 4' 4" and was constantly being called "short stuff" and "midget".

I guess it irritated me. Mostly, I was irritated by things the other kids took for granted. While the other kids vied and envied "top lockers",  I actually got one, that I couldn't reach. I had to suffer the indignity of going back to the office and after our maintenance man looked up the combination and said "Yeah , that's it. It's not opening?"...and I said "No that's the combination." (and he said) "What's the problem?"..I said "I can't reach it." and he broke out in paroxysms of laughter.

Anyway, during my first year in Satellite High, through circumstances I don't exactly remember, I met a giant of a man. His name was (Frank) Steve Scoggins. He was a senior. He was a photographer. He was 6' 3" (or 4) . with black wavy hair and Buddy Holly glasses. He was a friend of a chorus mate named Randy, and I think that's how we met.

 Early in the year there was an "event" where a lot of the clubs had tables and we had an open period to walk through the halls of the school and get acquainted with some of the other activities.  Exchanging books out of my, then, locker, which was near the ROTC room...and here begins my story. I had met Steve prior to this event. He emerged and, I don't really know how long he'd been there, so I don't know if he'd seen me dodging the barrage of feet and shoulders to get in and out of my locker.

He walked up to me and said "Hi, Kim" and gently took my hand. He walked me through the halls of Satellite that day. There was lots of laughing and jeering and snide remarks.  Mostly like "That's never going to work!" and other tasteless remarks.

I was "shrinking" at the remarks and being jeered at, but Steve was intrepid and like a man on a mission.

He was careful with his strides , so I didn't look like a munchkin trying to keep up with him. Everyone who made a remark, Steve spoke to. He didn't return tit for tat. He said "Hi" or "We'll see", nothing really confrontational.

Several things changed that day.  The first was...nearly miraculous for me. After that day, I was not stepped on, ignored or harassed for my size again (by people who didn't know me). The second was, I had a new friend, Steve.

 People did see us together sometimes.  Before school, we would run into one another and I would hear about his photographing adventures. We'd meet at a dance, and he would dance with me.  Every so-often I would get a ride home from school.  I didn't understand, then, that Steve had become used to looking out for people, because of someone in his family.

I remember , he snuck into our principals' office and got a picture of a controversial stereo system that our principal had purchased with school funds . I think the picture never actually made it to the school newspaper , due to some authorative intervention. Knowing Steve's work as a photographer, I'm sure the picture was crisp and slightly angled for that beautiful data look.

Over the years, I wondered how he did and I offer my thanks to Facebook for reconnecting with him.

He had been in the Marines (looks fabulous in his dress blues) . He got married to a sweet and pretty woman, named Rhonda and had a son, Roy.  We actually met with them  for breakfast during one of his trips to Florida to visit family.

I don't think he was very surprised that my husband, who is one of my heros, is actually 6' 8" tall.

 Imprints last a long time.

Over the last three years, Steve's contact and updates were consistent and worrying me. He had cancer. He had liver problems. He had lung cancer. Walt and I prayed for him, alot and sent cards and encouragement.

He was grateful and humble in his expressions of thanks.

I was informed , this week, that Steve passed into that good night.

If there is an eternal reward for someone, surely Steve has it.

I love you, Steve,

I miss you.

you'll always be "my giant"

How did she DO that???

"Yeah, Walt. Go to work while you're half dead already and share the venom virus with all your co-workers" , I remember saying to my spouse after he came home with some form of flu, I was sure, intending on "sharing it with me" as if it were a birthday present.

Then mumbling under my breath "Why do some people think that performing your job despite being an incubis of plague?"

This weekend...I understood that.

Rewind to two (or maybe three) weeks ago, when my husband came home with the virus from Heck.

 He , then , proceeded to tell me that "most of the people at work were sick with one of two sicknesses". The first , a respiratory/flu type illness.  The second an "intestinal thing".

Walt, spent that weekend being fed by me (home-made potato soup) and drinking hot toddy's made by me, with cinnamon whiskey and sleeping.

The last part of that recovery, I am envying like a miner with gold fever...S..L..E..E...P!

(more on that later).

Waking up sick on Saturday--sleeping through the weekend and waking up "Better but still tired" on Monday, I think he must have the immune system of a Norse God.

Anyway, happy that he's recovering. I continued my happily ignorant status of near health, when "BAM!" I wake up the following morning hacking up something that I hope  is not bits of my lungs, and my throat hot and painful.  You know the kind of "painful" I'm talking about. The kind of painful where swallowing a "low dose aspirin" feels like a razor blade sliding down your throat.

Whatever it is, I got it. Walt--sympathetic wonderful man that he is, comes home and tells me how long it took our friend from work to recover. Man.

 But it was Monday. I have a Dr's appointment on Wednesday (routine) in case  I'm not on the mend. I've got three readings on Thursday, one on friday. I'll be ok enough to perform.

Wednesday---You know you when you FIRST get a virus...and you're afraid you're doing to die and THEN ...two days later you're afraid you're praying "God please take me"? ...that's where I am. I go to my PCP. Oddly, I really have some faith in this man's diagnostic capabilities. He helped me through a year of two kinds of pneumonia (well him...and a pulmonologist...and visiting nurses and doctors...my husband and three cats, my church friends praying for me...visits to the ocean and raw honey..hey...you grasp for everything when you're dying).  He gives me mega antibiotics, listens to my lungs and I , thankfully do not have pneumonia. He says this with a half-smile...you know, like "I know something you don't know".  He continues with "My waiting room has been full of this virus...you have to pretty much wait this out".

Later-I will believe that this man knows how vorateous this virus actually is, and he wants to allow me the luxury of dying in my own bed.

THURSDAY- I have no voice...so no readings Thursday or Friday. My "not sleeping" for 3 days running has changed to  15 minute episodes of unconsciousness, with 20 pillows behind me and three in front of me, and me sleeping (essentially) on my face.  I'm hallucinating about a debate with "Hurley" from Lost about the huge amounts of fluids that I'm drinking, that the "liquid co-efficient" will make all of die in the next plane crash we all sustain in the time loop.  OY!

FRIDAY- Walt calls the dr's office back. When they call, the house and I answer, I am mistaken for Walt, initially. I'm told to continue my treatment and they hope I feel better. After that exchange of bewilderment, I nearly pass-out in the kitchen, whilst making toast ...not kidding...the floating dots and everything.  But I do actually spend most of the day out of bed, sitting on the couch watching old movies. When Walt comes home, I take a bath and while doing that he tells me something about another friend of mine.

A Flashback and the ACTUAL purpose of my writing this:

Walt messaged a friend of mine early the previous day. Anita sings (amazingly well) in a band . When she heard I was sick her response was "Oh great--we're BOTH sick..again." We BOTH have actually had the same illness at the same time..a number of times. We even share migraines.

She accomplishes more in a day (oft times) than I do in an entire week. She has another job in a business owned by her husband.  She's a caregiver for her poor mother. She takes care of her kids--yes they are adults..but you know , once you have them they're yours for life. She cares for her sister as well.

On this Friday, she was supposed to sing with her band. She was told by the venue manager (when she called and told her she was sick) "don't worry about it" and then later , told their band couldn't be replaced.

She went...she prayed...she drank (Hot toddies) and she sang.

How did she DO that?

I'm sitting here asking myself that over and over again.

Wow. I'm thinking I don't have enough wind in my lungs to walk from the bed to the bathroom and she got dressed and performed.

While telling husband Walt how impressed and amazed I was at this, he met me with his usual reflective gaze. At the writing of this, we've been forced to give away our tickets to see Arlo Gutherie, Sunday night..(.I love Arlo and have never seen him in concert.) 

 As Walt continued to assure me there would be another "again" for Arlo (or something just as good..like THAT'S going to happen), he also proffered some other insight about myself and my friend Anita. Apparently we also share this work ethic and this sense of responsibility (which Walt, kindly reminded me of several instances, when I've "performed"  while dancing on the edge of disaster.) I've attended psychic fairs after mononucleosis, while I had migraines and continued duties at church while in the wake of a divorce tidal wave.

I want to tell my friend Anita, I know what it took to pull up enough energy to "do what you said you would" in face of viral plague. I know you pull that out of a place that most people never even visit in their lifetime.  Afterward, you collapse with dewy, feverish face and say "I did it" as you mumble into unconsciousness "until the next time."   

We're praying for you , too, girl.

Until next time,

Live a life worth loving

and use your antibacterial gel!

-Kim