the peaceful peacock

You guys know how much I like tea.  It’s kind of ridiculous, really.  So, a couple of weeks ago I ran out of tea filters, whizzed something up on the sewing machine, and then the next thing you know….

…I’m taking pictures of my breakfast and quick-like thinking of clever descriptions for my sorely lonesome Etsy shop.

It was all very fast and unplanned, a creation of necessity and typical Virgo fussiness.  Don’t mess with the tea ritual.  It’s the only thing I have left some days, what with the children and all.

See it?  It suspends from your cup from a chopstick.  I love it.  I could go on and on and on about why I love it.  I could wax poetic about how my little filters and I are creating a lovely natural patina in Jasmine Green, I could sigh dreamily over the consistently perfect tea it creates.  I could do these things, but I hear rumor that there are some who care little about matters as trivial as tea.

As trivial as tea? Yes, fellow tea drinkers.  It’s true.  We are the long and gazing shadow beneath the monument of Coffee around these parts.

But for you and for me, I stole a few moments, stitched up a bunch of these little babies, and listed them in my Etsy shop.  Apparently it was just in time too because sweet Emily from the Etsy staff was just itching to write up this article in The Storque.

What?  Have I heard you correctly?

Yes, friends.  My humble tea bags are gracing the pages of the crafting institution known as The Storque.  If you are not familiar with the land of Etsy, it’s kind of a big deal.  I would liken it to being nominated for an Emmy or something.  There’s one solitary set holding down the fort at the moment, but more are on the way.  Stay tuned, warm your cups properly, and prepare your kettles for company.

And like any of the select few chosen to grace the red carpet, my sweet little tea bags are gussied up in dazzling new finery (which some may simply refer to as packaging).  Take a peek:

***Vintage photo of silent screen star Norma Shearer, taken by Alfred Johnson.***

So yesterday I was monkeying around with a new skein of yarn, trying various backgrounds and techniques in order to capture the spirit of the yarn in its best light.  Grey is  far outside of the scope of my jewel tone comfort zone so I’m finding it a bit difficult.  A basic white background washes it out, the rustic wooden tabletops that I love so much do it no justice…what colors go well with grey?

Another technique I tried was taking photos of the yarn on top of a mirror.  Though it didn’t quite give me the results I was looking for, I was happy with what unfolded nonetheless:

What I really like here is the spontaneous color combinations and the extra detail that the mirror shows on the yarn.   I know it’s not “the money shot” for selling the skein, but with a bit more editing I will most likely choose it for my portfolio.

For the record, there are two types of yeast. One is traditional yeast, which you use the sponge method for. That’s what we’ll be going over here.

The other kind is instant yeast. This is also known as rapid rise or bread machine yeast. Basically, you just toss it in with everything else and there is no need to do the sponge method. It’s convenient but I tend to dig the tradition of the sponge process. It’s science-y and cool, and it breaks the process into do-it-quick steps.  As the mama of two small trapeze artists, I appreciate that.

If, like me, you have followed a recipe without paying any attention to what kind of yeast is called for, you might have ended up with a dough that contains little balls of yeast in the finished product. It also doesn’t rise properly, resulting in a dense, heavy bread.  So if your recipe calls for instant yeast and you don’t have any, you need to do the sponge method.  The two types of yeast are generally interchangeable, provided you follow the proper method for whatever kind you have.

The Sponge Method

Maybe you know this, maybe you don’t, but yeast is a living organism. You always begin a traditional yeasted dough with the process of combining the yeast, a sugar, and warm water. These are the only three ingredients that are put together in the beginning.

• The yeast feeds on the sweetener (sugar, honey, agave, what have you) and the warm water creates a peaceful, supportive environment for the event to happen.
• Ideally, the water should be about 100-105 degrees (almost too hot on the tender part of your wrist). To ascertain the temperature, use a meat thermomtraeter to gauge the feel of the water.  Commit this feeling to memory, or use a thermometer every time if that works for you.

When the conditions are ideal, this will happen in about five minutes:

This is what is known as “the sponge”. Basically it’s a bowl of foamy goop. There are rules to yeast, but don’t be afraid of it. If the water is too hot it will kill the organisms, if the water is too cold the process will take FOREVER.

The feeding frenzy must be stopped at the foamy goop point or else the yeast will overproof (gorge itself and die) and won’t work in your dough.

How on earth do you stop the madness of this hungry yeast? Add your salt. That’s it. And technically it doesn’t stop it, it just slows the process down to the point where you can add the rest of the ingredients and give the yeast some real work to do. You don’t want to add your salt prior to this point though because your bread will turn out dense and brick-like.

Previous Post About Dough

Next up:  Balancing the Texture of Your Dough

St. Patrick’s Day always makes me think of you.

Last night, I was breathing in the sweet smell of my little baby girl, happily thinking of how pleased I’m sure you are that she has red hair.  No denying it now–there are streaks of fire on that girl.

I smelled you.  Not the bottled up version of you that I have tucked away for when I miss you, but the real thing.  The orange and red shag carpet, the red stove, the morning sun shining in through the kitchen window while you sat at the island reading the paper and drinking your coffee.

I miss your songs and when you would have strawberry soap.

You gave a kiss to Annabelle and told me some good secrets about her.  She is like me…happy and free and reckless and she already doesn’t give a shit about anyone else’s agenda.  Another butterfly.  I will be patient.

I love you.  I miss you.

~ j

Making an impeccable loaf of  homemade bread–by means of skill rather than accident–has been on my list of lifetime goals for a very, very long time.  (I can say decades now, though I don’t want to say decades because it makes me feel much older than 34.)  I  began my trek into this noblest of humble skills by following the  standard routine:  I followed a recipe, I was horrified at the results, I  consulted books and troubleshooting guides about bread making, I tried  another recipe, and once again I was horrified by the results.

You  might as well punch down your ego when you punch down that rising  dough.  The learning curve of homemade bread is pretty unforgiving.

Or  so it would seem.

Allow me to propose a solution:

Pizza.

Even when it’s bad it’s still pretty good and above all, it’s usually edible no matter what you do to screw it up.  It’s easy to add into your weekly repertoire, and the wealth of topping options makes it possible to disguise a less-than-perfect dough result while you’re learning the ropes.

There’s no way around it.  You have to just dig in and accept the fact that you are most likely not going to create perfect dough from your first efforts.  I didn’t and I spent two years working  in a bakery for God’s sake.

In order to help you incorporate this beautiful tradition into your own life, I’m offering the knowledge that has been passed to me from a variety of sources–my family’s secrets, tricks of the trade that I picked up working in a natural food store’s bakery, and tips and pointers handed to me by my co-workers there who have worked for places like this and this (thanks, G!).

To begin, we will be using my go-to pizza recipe, adapted from Horn of the Moon Cookbook’s Spinach Ricotta Deep Dish Pizza recipe (page 195).  I’ll be sharing the recipe that has morphed from the original and the techniques, step by step, over the next few days.  Baking bread is a slow process.  Learning how to do it with good results should be viewed as a process as well.

Next up:  Dealing With Yeast.