True Story Tuesday - Bread

So, have ya'll heard of that cookbook Artisan Bread in 5 Minutes a Day?  They aren't kidding when they call it "The Discovery That Revolutionizes Home Baking".

True story.

I got the cookbook sometime before Christmas when I was ordering some things from Amazon.com and I needed to order a certain amount in order to qualify for the free shipping. So I ordered the book for myself and called it an early Christmas present.

True story.

I didn't get around to really trying any of the recipes until sometime in February. The first one I tried was a light wheat bread.  And upon first bite, the angels sang and the heavens parted.

True story.

I love to bake bread and have tried dozens of recipes, searching for a certain texture and consistency that would replicate my grandma's homemade white bread.  I loved that bread and gobbled it up whenever we'd visit. This bread is the closest I've come to replicating Grandma's.

True story.

Another thing I'm loving about this book of recipes is how versatile they are.  I have made bagels and pizza dough out of whatever dough I have going and they ROCKED.  Seriously.  It truly IS the best bread I've ever made.

True story.

If I'm going to keep trying these recipes and gobbling up the delicious results like a half-starved maniac, I'm gonna need to keep running.  Like, A LOT.

True story.

Unrecognizable

Seriously, who slipped my life a hit of acid?  Because it has just gone wacky.  Every single item of whack could fill up its own blog post, and maybe eventually it will, but in summary here's what's been going on:

About 12 days ago, after about 18 hours of vomiting, diarrhea, fever and excruciating lower back pain, I made my husband take me to the Emergency Room.  You have to know this about me:  I WORK at the hospital and really make it a point to NOT go there unless I'm being paid to do so.  In this case, however, I was willing and even eager to give them whatever they wanted if only they would GIVE ME DRUGS.  Which, thankfully, they did and I was able to (mostly) stop tossing up everything I'd eaten in the previous month days and writhing in pain.  It's only been in the last 3-4 days that I've felt back to normal - I was *that* wrecked.

So needless to say, I've not been running or even setting foot near the gym.  That will be remedied this week.  My hiatus is over and I'm back on the wagon, so to speak.  Enough of living on buttery toast and whatever sounds least likely to cause pain (i.e. ice cream) and back to fruit smoothies and salad.  (Don't worry - I eat more than that.)

My fascination with all things food is reaching fever pitch.  After watching Food, Inc. a while back I've been hungry to learn more about what's really going on with America's food.  I'm currently reading Michael Pollan's book The Omnivore's Dilemma and boy howdy...is THAT an eye opener.  I dare you to read it and NOT have it change how you shop and eat.  I'm barely a quarter of the way through it and keep finding myself shaking my head in disgust and disbelief.  America, suffice it to say that the government is force feeding us CRAP.  You want to know why we're overweight and dying younger and younger?!  READ THE BOOK.  I am alternately outraged and acutely impassioned about this topic and if you get within earshot of me, you will likely hear me spew forth facts from the movie and/or book and my opinions and thoughts on the enormous injustice that is our food system.  (Truly, I am composing an entire essay in my head on this topic I am so on fire about it.  Right now, I am still in the outlining phase, but an essay will be forthcoming, mark my words.) 

And lastly, I have metaphorically donned my denim jumper and comfortable shoes, braided my hair, quit wearing makeup and have embraced HOMESCHOOLING.  If you know me IRL, you know this idea has been swirling around in my head for a couple years now.  Not because it was something I always wanted to do, but because after seeing Sam through kindergarten I suspected that maybe Sam + classroom would not entirely = success.  Long story short, my suspicions were indeed realized and then there was the lovely added benefit of a couple of little assholes in his classroom (and by assholes I mean children whose parents either were a) high on crack/drunk most of the time, b) wishing they'd used a condom, c) not interested in being a parent, or D) all of the above.)  Trust me, I do not fault the children - the blame lies solely with the sorry excuse for parents that procreated those kids.  But I am not obligated to subject MY child to those children and their foul mouths/crude & inappropriate behavior/delinquent tendencies just because we have the misfortune to reside in the same school district.  So, as of a week ago, Sam no longer goes to that school.  Or any school, for that matter.  (If you couldn't tell, this subject also fires me up a little.)  For the remainder of this year, we are homeschooling.  Next year, we are working on getting a plan in place that I think will make everyone happy and be the best for Sam, which is the whole point.

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These days I barely recognize my life.  I mean, who am I?  I'm running, I'm homeschooling, I'm gettin' all earthy.  I feel like I'm a walking jumble of adjectives:  outraged, inspired, determined, searching, motivated, humbled, relieved, focused.  Evolving.  On the verge.  I feel like the things I'm going through right now are changing me - are changing who I am, how I think, how I act.   I can feel it physically, like growing pains. 

But I guess that's what's happening:  I'm growing a new life.