The Joys of Home Baked Bread

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I was struggling a bit with content ideas for today's blog post, and ended up going with exactly what is going on at my house at this point in time.

In between reading, a token effort at homeschooling, washing my hair, shopping for leopard print sandals and looking up cherry brownie recipes, I came up with this:  home bread baking.  I love to make bread at home.  Back in the day I used to make my own bread dough, complete with kneading it and the whole shebang (oh dear, does anyone say shebang anymore?  What does that even mean? I am really showing my age). At any rate, I used to make bread the old fashioned way, and remember the description of how you know the dough has been kneaded enough:  It feels like a baby's bottom.  And that's the truth.

A few years back my family gave me a bread-making machine, and I love it.  

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You put all the ingredients into the machine in a certain order, close the lid and press "start" and the magic happens with no further interference from me.  I usually entertain a moment or two of guilt that I am not doing all the work myself, but it doesn't last long. 

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I cannot begin to pronounce the name of my machine, but I can tell you I have had it for a couple of years and it is going great.  I won't give a recipe, because each machine probably comes with its own instructions and I just follow what the little brochure tells me to do.  The results are fabulous.

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Do you make bread at home?  It is without fail, always a hit when I make the effort.  You all must excuse me now.  I have something important to do.


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