I Made Bread! It Was Easy. You Can Too.

You know when it's August, but your iPod thinks it's December, and it plays "Do They Know it's Christmas," and you find yourself silently mouthing "Tonight thank god it's them, instead of YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUU" at a nice Asian man who clearly thinks you're about to steal his bag of lychees?

I love that.

I also love bread, but have never in my whole puff attempted to make it until this summer, assuming it was roughly as complicated as re-wiring the Hadron Collider. Then, it dawned on me that, a few years ago, Mark Bittman  published a recipe for five-minute, idiot-proof, no-knead artisan bread. It's since been updated and refined by half the population of Guam, but the essentials are there: four ingredients, a bowl, a pot, and time. So I tried it myself, and whaddayaknow? It's the best. Seriously. In all seriousness. Squared. I will eat this and nothing else until I die, presumably, of choking on bread.

Here's how you make it. (Do it! We'll have a bread party.)

First, gather your ingredients. They are:

• 3 cups of bread flour


• 1 little packet of active dry yeast


• 1 1/2 teaspoons salt


• 1 1/2 cups lukewarm water

If you plan on making this baby a lot in the future, bite the $4 bullet and purchase a package of yeast from CostCo or something. It is approximately four billion times cheaper than buying it envelope by envelope, a.k.a What I'm Currently Doing.

Second, you get a large, non-reactive mixing bowl and combine your dry ingredients, a.k.a. The Ingredients You Didn't Get From the Tap.

Third, add water and stir until it becomes a spongy, dough-like mass, a.k.a. Mr. Squishy. Don't overstir, or something bad will happen. I'm not exactly sure what, but aren't you scared now?

Fourth, cover that baby. With plastic and rubber bands. Then, leave it out for at least four hours, but for as long as several days, refrigerating after those first 240 minutes. (Note: The longer it sits, the better it will taste. I've gone up to three days.) If you have a cat that's prone to eating dough (er, not that I know any cat like that) ...

... hide it somewhere, like the Cave of Caerbannog, where it will be guarded by a rabbit so foul, so cruel, that no man (or cat) has yet fought with it and lived.

A cabinet will also be sufficient.

Eventually, your dough will expand like crazy, to about three times its former size. It will also appear softer and slightly wetter. (Note cat in lower part of photo, stalking wet dough for potential lunching. His lobotomy is scheduled for tomorrow.)

Fifth, cover a clean cooking surface (a counter, mayhaps) with a thin sheen of olive oil. Turn the dough out on to the surface, and fold it over two or three times. Cover everything with plastic wrap, and let it sit at least 30 minutes, but for up to 2 hours. If it's been refrigerated, it must be given enough time to come to room temperature. It must!

Sixth, while the dough lounges around, move your oven rack to the lower third of your oven. Then, preheat that sucker to 450 degrees F. Grab a pot or Dutch oven, cover it, and stick it in there, to warm along with the oven.

This is mine. It's a 3-quart hard anodized piece of Calphalon, but I'm fairly sure any sizable, oven-safe covered pot will do. (Have doubts about yours? Look it up on the interwebs.)

Seventh, once everything is good to go, CAREFULLY remove the hot pot from the oven and VERY CAREFULLY place the dough into it. SUPER CAREFULLY cover it, and COLOSSALLY CAREFULLY place it back into your oven. Bake for 30 minutes. I CAN'T EVEN EXPRESS HOW CAREFULLY YOU SHOULD remove the cover. Bake an additional 15 minutes, or until the top of your bread is nicely browned. If you see it starting to burn, get it out of there.

Eighth, flip the bread out on to a wire cooling rack. It should look something like this:

And one more time, in black and white, for posterity:

Ninth, once it's cool enough to handle, eat that bread. It may seem like a big loaf at first, but I promise on all that is good and pure, none of it will go to waste. Here's the above loaf, 30 seconds later:

And finally:

Happy baking!

Why and How to Freeze Blueberries

Ahh, summer. Full of hazy days, humid nights, and lots and lots of blueberries. Those sweet orbs of azure joy are welcome anytime of year, but especially right now, when they provide a fruitacular (fruitacular?) balm for the grossest weeks of summer.

That's a flowery way of saying that blueberries are currently on major sale at both my supermarket and Costco, going for about $0.16/ounce. That's just about as cheap as they'll get around here, and I want to preserve the bounty for the winter months. (That's when I  crave blueberry pancakes, but have to usually settle for acorn squash pancakes. It's just not the same.)

Fortunately, freezing blueberries for future use is easy as (blueberry) pie, and a heckuva lot cheaper than buying off-season ones come January. All you need to do is follow these simple steps. You'll thank me come Christmas (because surely, there's no one more deserving of expensive gift-like things than a babble-prone, extremely lax blogger you barely know.)

Anyway, let's get to it. 

Step 1: Cut a hole in the box. Buy an Ark-of-the-Covenant-sized carton of blueberries from your local farmer's market, big box store, or preferred fruit venue.

Step 1.5: Get some freezer baggies while you're at it. Honestly, they're nice to have around, regardless. Tom Bosley was right on.

Step 2: Take a picture that you may someday use as a computer background. Make sure it is well-lit and in focus, so people (note: your mom) think(s) you're super awesome.

Step 3: Measure out your desired amount of blueberries. It could be in cup or half-cup increments, or by weight. Whatever you prefer. For my own nefarious purposes, I did eight ounces at a time.

Step 4: Place the blueberries on a small baking sheet. Stick that sheet right in your freezer.

NOTE: Blueberries are weird in that you should generally wait to wash them until right before using 'em. Less mushiness that way.

Step 5: Freeze for a few hours. Overnight is best.

Step 6: While the freezing process is occurring, watch the finale of Friday Night Lights and contemplate your values. Hope that someday you may make Coach Taylor proud.

Step 7: Once berries are frozen through, pour them into a freezer-safe Ziploc baggie. Get as much air out as possible, using a straw or your purty, purty mouth. Then, label that sucker.

NOTE: You do not have to write "Frozen Blueberries," as so brilliantly demonstrated here. Odds are you'll know they're frozen when you remove them from ... wait for it ... yep, the freezer.

And that's pretty much it. The blueberries should keep for a couple of months this way. (If you start seeing major freezer burn or frost buildup, it's probably a pretty good indication they should be used soon.) Try them in smoothies, crisps, or the aforementioned flapjacks. Viva la France!