Sunday, July 16, 2006

Hello my fair weather friends

Sorry. It’s been awhile since I have put something here. It’s not that I haven’t been writing, I write a lot these days, but mostly for personal satisfaction. I am at home, or at my parent’s home, in Casper right now, and it’s quite fantastic. I love Wyoming in the summer; it’s dry, and hot. I have had a number of projects to do, including rebuilding my mom’s south lawn, and building a deck up at our summer home in the Bighorn Mountains. Two of my dear college friends made the road trip from New York for a couple of days, and ended up being a central part of “team Barry.” In short, we were directly responsible for planking over 1700 sq. feet of redwood on the front and back of the house. Over 3700 screws and pilot holes were drilled and it was a long 2 days of work. But one of the greatest experiences of my life; what started out as a dare (like someone would drive to Wyoming in the middle of their vacation…) ended up reassuring me that I had made some really good friends during my time in New York.

I have done a number of things to pass the time. One of the things that I have decided to master recently is the art of baking French bread. Traditional French bread is made with a starter. That is, flour and water that sit out, collecting yeast particles in the air, and souring until they gain a life of their own after a week. In kitchens where a lot of bread is made it’s not necessary to add yeast to a starter, now, my mom doesn’t bake a lot of bread, and I really didn’t have the patience to wait 10 days for a starter to begin. So I hunted around for a recipe without a starter. I found several, some were complex requiring the scalding of milk, and water at exactly 105 degrees. Others were simply yeast, flour, water, and salt. I tried about 10 recipes until I was able to pick and choose from the 10 to create one that I liked the texture, and taste, as well as was able to work at 5000 feet above sea level. I am proud to say that I am the owner of my very own super-secret French bread recipe that is all mine, no one has one that is exactly like it. And no one is going to bake a loaf that tastes just like it. It only has 6 ingredients and in the 5 times that I have baked it, it has yet to fail. I am still in the process of getting an exactly straight loaf, mine always seem to bend just a little bit, quite strange, but I think it will come along.

But this has led me to some interesting observations about bread making, and cooking in general. Bread is a living thing, an organism. When you add the yeast, and it rises it’s like a child that I am raising. And I can vary the amount that it rises based on the amount of salt, sugar, fat, flour, or other leavening agent. It’s minutely adjustable and can be affected by the outside temperature, the humidity, and the air pressure. The amount that I knead the dough and weather I mix it by machine or by hand can affect the taste and texture of the final loaf. Whether or not there is fat can affect how well it rises, and the type of crust. A 25-degree difference in cooking temperature can affect the texture of the bread and the crustiness of the outside. The presence of the egg wash during the last couple of minutes of baking can determine if there is going to be a nice golden patina to the loaf or if it is going to have a muted brown coloration. Using olive oil instead of salad oil can add just a hit of olive and density to a loaf, as well as just a small amount of yellowish coloring. A bread recipe is like an engine with an infinite amount of tinkering to get to the exact right specifications. It’s fantastic, a terrific hobby for someone in need of distraction.

My friends are coming back for a sequel adventure. This time we won’t be building a deck, but will spend our time hiking, fishing, and just sitting out, catching some rays at 9000 feet and reading a good book. After all those are the best vacations. Oh, and there will be plenty of fresh baked bread to snack on. I can’t wait.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

...

I was reading through old letters and the book. I found this. I should share.


Two Hearts that Really Care

Distance never separates
two hearts that really care.
For memory spans the miles
and in seconds, we are there.

We hear the voice, we see the smile,
and deep inside we know...
that friends remain a part of us,
wherever we may go.

So we can visit anytime,
no matter when or where.
For distance never separates
two hearts that really care.
--Emily Matthews