Tense times, we’re down to our last bag of bread flour.
I’ve ordered some on the shop that’s coming tomorrow, but every time I’ve ordered some for the last one hundred and eleven days it’s been deleted off because there’s none in stock. So who knows what will happen? Hopefully, because more people have started drifting back to the new normal the flour availability has increased because why make bread when you can go to the pub or watch football?
I’ve gone a bit bread mad today – probably the longest bread day I’ve inflicted on myself with different proving times and different bowls of stuff. Literally all day in the kitchen. But worth it, I guess. And I didn’t swear at the enriched dough of the tear-and-share bread half as much as I did the first time I made it, so that’s a bonus.
I fricking hate enriched doughs. They’re awful to play with at the beginning. This one is particularly wet and horrible. The first time I made it, it got everywhere as I tried to get it to form into a nice coherent dough (which it eventually did, and then into some ridiculously nice bread). This time I employed a tactic I usually don’t go in for anymore, because there’s enough waiting around when it comes to bread making.
But I waited.
Waiting makes the stuff less sticky. I don’t know why or how, particularly. I guess it gives the flour time to absorb more of the moisture or something. All I know is, I didn’t end up with a bread scraper stuck to my hands, then the cupboards, then the worktop.
Which is definitely progress.
I must have been more up beat, I guess, otherwise I wouldn’t have embarked on another however many rolls for us and my mum. I’d have just given up and played Animal Crossing instead.
But still… the last bag of bread flour.
The stuff of nightmares.
Three batches of bread away from an all-out flour deficit. Less if Carole insists I make more cheesy hot cross buns.