Sometimes you just need bread fast.
I like to plan. I operate best when I know what is coming. Changes or unanticipated surprises make me grumpy. Like when meal planning goes awry and we end up having soup or stew and I don’t the time or dough ready for bread.
Soup or stew without bread is only half a meal. It all makes me grumpy!
I used to have this deal with myself: if I wanted something really indulgent, like french fries, cookies or ice cream, I could have it if I made it myself. Having kids torpedoed that rule, just no time to hand cut fries any time the craving strikes, but it has stuck around for pizza.
Ten years after moving here and we still haven’t found a local or convenient place that makes a reliable pie that we like. It’s cheaper, easier and tastier (sometimes healthier) to just make pizza at home.
I make a lot of pizza at home. I’ve gotten pretty good at it. Here are the most common things people ask about or should know if you want to make pizza at home.
First, of all any recipe that not only includes beer, but includes it prominently in the title definitely has my attention.
Second, this incredibly simple bread is easy to make and tastes like Thanksgiving.
Third, do you really need another reason to make this quick bread?
Five years ago, in a fit of either homesteading fever or uncontrollable Amazon Prime clicking, I bought a Ball home canning kit. It promptly sat in its box. First in the office and then down in the basement. I did flip through the Ball preserving book, but it suddenly seemed like a lot of effort and a lot of bother.
We moved to a new house. Conveniently, the canning kit was still packed and moved right along with us. It went on a shelf in the basement in a new house. It didn’t even get to stop in the office this time around.
Nothing changed except we joined the Tangerini’s CSA and occasionally I’d see the Ball book on my cookbook shelf. I’d quickly avert my eyes. Then, one day this summer while picking up our CSA, I saw an advertisement for a Canning and Pickling class at the farm. I signed up before I could talk myself out of it.
The week after the class, I was putting up jam, salsa and vegetables like a 1900’s prairie farmer.
Mid-summer, a time of abundance, even in the scant growing season of New England. The CSA is in full swing. The home garden is producing. And my father-in-law can’t resist picking more fruit than he can possibly consume.
He’s an engineer, turned doctor, who should have been a farmer. He loves picking. Last week, when I drove down to Philly to drop off Cecilia, he sent me back with a 20 lb box of blueberries, a (slightly) smaller box of peaches, a bag of beets and some mangoes. Challenge accepted!