Jack had to have a bit of surgery this week (he’s fine, he’s fine!) and when I got home from finding out, I didn’t even take off my sweater. I gravitated to the kitchen and started pulling out flour. This is the result, a wheaty loaf, using a small amount of buckwheat in a poolish starter.
Oh that bread looks good. Good job on a loaf well done. There is something theraputic in making bread. Lucky Jack. I hope he’s mending nicely. Also a big sigh on the loss of Sasha from last post. No sad laments,but it does bring back the loss of beautiful souls I have known. I think of them often and wonder at the fact that thier little pieces of my heart never seem to fill with other. But there is still enough to embrace new friends on the horizon. One of lifes sweet little mysteries I think. I’m having an ice cream cone in Sasha’s honor 🙂
Beautiful, Andy. She’ll love that.
Bread is tremendously therapuetic. It’s that concreteness, I think, the solidity of doing something so creative and nourishing.
Hi Barbara,
Have been away. So sorry about Sasha. Huge, huge, hug to you. The bread looks incredible. With a cup of tea, I’d toast a slice and spread some Nutella!!! Yum!