Bread is magic

A long time ago, my mom and grandmother taught me how to bake bread.

Today, Greg wanted me to show him how. So we got out the mixer and the big bowl and the pans, and Greg and I baked bread. In fact, we baked some White Bread Plus, from the recipe in Joy of Cooking - referring to the copy that my Mom gave me, ages ago. If you put the book on the counter and just let it fall open, it more or less opens automatically at that page. I guess the book remembers.

We put in the flour, we put in the water and the butter. We let the mixer run, and although at first I couldn't remember quite how things went, as we watched the mixer run, it all came flooding back. Maybe you never quite forget.

And then we dumped the dough out of the mixer bowl onto the counter, and I quickly showed Greg how to knead it. People have different kneading patterns and different styles, but I think my style is a close match to my grandmother's, who taught me a thing or two about bread years ago (including how to make absolutely fabulous cinnamon bread, for toast).

So I gave it a quick knead, to show Greg how, and then I had him take over.

Greg was a nearly instantaneous learner. Notice how his style matches Grandma's?

Two minutes in, and Greg is a confident expert. I don't think he even got his hands sticky once.