Dog day 3

Still wrong but this time with chilli.

Dog day 2

Yep, still wrong.

Wrong

I know it's wrong.
I still made three to check.
I can confirm- it is wrong.

Even more bread

Since last update I've had a few successes and a few failures. It seems production of the better examples has a very thin margin of error. This little beauty is the product of yet another drunken chat round a campfire in between jamming and drinking. Among the various subjects bread-making came up completely unbidden by me. My music pal Eddy is also a bread-maker as well as a fantastic guitarist/singer. We traded experiences and tips. This loaf is still made with my home caught sour dough yeast, kneaded hard into a good tight dough but now I'm using much less of a different type of organic flour. Now, thanks to Eddy, I'm proving it in the airing cupboard in a plastic bag of all things. The first two I tried this way rose so fast they almost exploded so it was lucky they were in plastic bags- otherwise I'd have a shit-load of emergency washing to do in secret before my girlfriend discovers I've got dough all over the clean sheets (explain that one). This one I nursed gently to keep it tame. Finally I baked it on a much reduced heat and stayed close by to keep an eye rather than play on the Internet til I smell burning. Presto: best bread yet. Truly, blessed are the bread-makers.

Sunrise

6.30 this morning and I'm being gently prodded back to life after half a bottle of whiskey finally dispatched me to bed at 2am this same morning. I'm not a morning person at the best of times so this morning was never going to be easy. Nonetheless I got up-and-at-em with little fuss. I fought to put on the muddy, wet gear from the fast, loose and muddy ride to the remote hostel and put on what dry gear I brought with me while trying to defend myself against daggers from people who don't think they snore- I myself heard snoring in the bunk room before I found what little sleep I was going to get so I can't be totally to blame. The cold, dark morning was quite a contrast to last nights rain followed by mist followed by dense cloud followed by lashing rain and the onward ride, for once, was mostly downhill- a payoff for last nights hellish climb. Lights lit and we push off into what was shortly to become a fine sunrise; the four of us all had to be at work despite the previous nights partying. My bike cut through the trail like a dagger with only the distant clicking of the freewheel and scuffing of the singletrack coming through the din of the wind rushing past my ears. Thankfully I found the culprit of the maddening front brake squeek that was torturing me over the weekend; brand new brake pads dragging their leading edge against the front disk. I chamfered the edges like you have to do on old Harley drum brakes, problem solved and sanity saved. Slabs of jagged rock and freshly swollen rivers punctuate the flowing trail as the rhythm gets faster til i'm going as fast as I dare down the last death-or-glory descent. Once again I didn't die and once again the glory is purely personal. People just don't get it unless they themselves do it so there's little point in trying to regale them with the stories. I'm content; the meal we went there for was nothing short of a miracle, the company was excellent and I got five minutes of peace this morning for the zen hosing down of the bike. One day I'll try to explain why I ride a single-speed in the mountains but I'll have to figure that out for myself first.

More bread

Still using the sour dough and White flour but being really gentle with the dough once it's risen. This one has risen much more than the last one and while it's not exactly light and fluffy it is better than last time.. Next time I'm gonna "knock it back" fiercely and allow it to prove and see if that makes any difference.
Tastes good.