Among the many items we are gradually amassing as a result of father-in-law WithaY's recent move into the nursing home is a bread machine.
One that bakes loaves of bread I mean, not something that prints money. Which would be very welcome, to be honest, if anyone has one they want rid of.
Anyhoo, we tried it out last night, and made a slightly odd-shaped loaf of dark bread, a sort of German rye affair. As a key part of a bacon sandwich this morning it was very good. Tasty, nice texture, not too floppity. I currently have a sunflower seed loaf in there, to see how it manages bread with bits in.
Is it just me, or does "A German Rye Affair" sound like the sort of book you buy in the airport on your way to your holiday? With a gold embossed picture on the front, and a list of all the other books by the same author in big letters?
Anyhoo.
We have several huge boxes in the kitchen, full of jars, cans, packets and bags of foodstuffs, some still in date, even. We have more olive oil than anyone other than a Turkish wrestler needs, and about fifty different types of dried vine fruit. Mr WithaY has cleared space in the garage; we plan to store all the mouse-proof stuff out there till we get round to finding a more permanent home for it.
If anyone wants about a thousand cans of peach halves, please do drop me a line.
Other news: Our mates with the mad spaniels are coming over later for dinner and (we decided over a sustaining lunch of home-made soup) cocktails. Mmmmmmmmmm. In fact, I need to go and put some ice cubes in to freeze so we can have proper posh cocktails and not just huge glasses of sticky warm mixtures of mad alcohol.
Am learning to play the riff from "Every Mother's Son" by the fab Lynyrd Skynyrd, which feels like a real achievement. Yay me. Makes me feel like a proper guitarist, being able to do little riffy bits.
Still bloody freezing here. Everything was covered in the most beautiful hoar frost yesterday and today, making the place look like a Christmas card. We will light the fire when our mates get here and talk bollocks all evening.
Marvellous.
5 comments:
Hoar frost.
Heh heh.
Have a lovely evening! Sounds like fun!
Earl. *tch*
Justme, thank you.
It must be something that happens to people at this stage of life that they suddenly have this urge to bake their own bread. I came straight here to check on your latest capers from Amazon where I have just ordered my first breadmaker, which comes with complimentary pipe and slippers made of German Rye Bread.
Spencer, I have, as you know, always been a keen baker of tasty treats. But the bread from the machine is really excellent.
I am making a cardigan out of spelt.
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