The Baking Bread Experiment
I never said I was an awesome cook. But it’s not for lack of trying. I just seem to be stuck in the bachelor days when a meal is anything that makes me not hungry anymore. So flavor, taste, or whatever you call the thing that the tongue senses is secondary, or thirdiary, or even fourtheria to simply making “something.”
This has been a point of contention between my wife and I for some time now. She is a hard working mom and as the stay at home dad, making half decent meals is my responsibility. Also, providing food and edible snacks for the children is something that I need to do. And I have definitely taken a stab at it. Most of you have seen the kale chip experiment and the aftermath of that. You may have also seen the smoothie attempt. And recently, on my Facebook page, I mentioned taco night where, after realizing I was missing tomatoes and onions for the taco seasoning, I chose to improvise by dumping in some salsa. And that didn’t work out too well. I believe we ordered Indian that night. (Incidentally, I’m AMAZING at ordering food!)
It’s even been so bad that Noble’s friend doesn’t want to stay at our house for dinner because I don’t make good Macaroni and Cheese! Seriously, What, the, F?!
The reason I’m telling you all of this is that after all the torture I’ve put my children through, it was my turn to suffer. Noble wanted to make bread last night, and instead of standing over him and making sure he did everything according to the recipe, I just pulled out the ingredients, showed him the recipe, explained the measuring cups, and then opened a beer and left the room. He was so passionate about doing it himself, and I saw a window of opportunity to relax with Alistair for a little bit.
I did NOT expect to have to eat it. But there was Noble, asking from the other room, requesting a promise to try his bread when it was complete. I thought back to the kale chips, and to all the other meals that I butchered, and I said, “absolutely! I can’t wait!” I prepared myself for maximum diarrhea.
When Noble was finished putting all the ingredients into the bread maker, I noticed that he kind of threw out the whole “measuring” idea after a couple of ingredients. He also eyeballed the milk, and got creative, adding some brown sugar. The result:
And did I taste it? You bet I did. And how did it taste?
Everyone ate it, and it was good! DAMMIT! And now I have been demoted even further in the world of culinary respect. I will be enrolling in some form of cooking school soon. If I can be shown up by a 6 year old chucking ingredients in a container…I can’t think of a bigger wake up call. And thank you to Noble for his impersonation of me trying to cook. I am detecting traces of disrespect and belittlement.