Today will be a time of baking. If at first, I tried all kinds of recipes, I have fallen back for a year on only one type of bread. Leavened bread, multigrain, everything contributes to rhyme (in French) and well-being. The result is three loaves, one goest to my neighbors on the ground floor, the other consumed for breakfast and sometimes for lunch when a soup or sandwich is served. Finally, the third loaf goes to the freezer. This lasts for a week and a half to two weeks before taking out the leaven and preparing, the evening before, the filly and the grain preparation.
While complete, the bread is light and sweet, and when it is well made, it has moisture that makes it full of cells.
I am happy to make my bread in this way, and I often envy those who work hard every morning to offer a variety of baguettes and loaves. I’ve already written a novel about a baker. There are times when I would like the hours of the bakery to invade all my thoughts.