In the bread
Make me feel happy
Ah, they go to my head
Those tiny bubbles
Make me feel so nice
You know that I’m gonna
Love that butter conveyance device
So here’s to the golden crust
And here’s to the butter knife
And here’s some tasty toast
For me and my wife
When the tiny bubbles (tiny bubbles)
In the bread (in the bread)
They make me feel happy (make me feel happy)
They go to my head (go to my head)
Those tiny bubbles (tiny bubbles)
Make me warm all over (make me warm all over)
With a feeling that I’m gonna (with a feeling that I’m gonna)
Love that butter conveyance device (it’s so nice)
Tiny bubbles (oooh-a-licki)
In the bread (ik-a-may-li)
Make me feel happy (a-ka-oli)
Ah, they go to my head (ik-a-ba-al-he)
Naturally leavened bread dough completes its bulk fermentation. Lookit all them little tiny bubbles!
The final result. Mmmm, crusty!
Even Don Ho would approve.
Posts
2 comments:
So what kind of bread are we looking at? My immediate instinct, because I lived in France, would be to (1) call that a pain de campagne, (2) assault it with a serrated knife, (3) butter each slice with fresh farm butter and confiture, (4) dunk it in a steaming bowl of rich hot chocolate, and (5) gobble that thang.
That's pretty much exactly what it is, Kevin: an American version of pain de campagne. It's a naturally leavened (i.e., sourdough) bread with mostly white and some whole wheat flour, baked into a country-style boule. The crust is thick, so a serrated knife helps.
I hacked into that boule yesterday. Had a couple of slices with fresh sweet butter, a couple of others with Cabot clothbound cheddar melted on top. Before I knew it, I had consumed a quarter of the loaf. Damn!
Post a Comment