Use what you have

So I was talking to my husband this past weekend about needing to buy bread, milk, and eggs when I went out Monday. As I was discussing my errands with him, I opened my pantry and moved the three bags of flour I bought a few weeks ago to bake my own bread and I thought: "Hold up! Use what you have, silly!"

 Now, understand my husband does not like wheat ANYTHING. If he's eating any "whole wheat" product, it is under extreme duress. I am determined, however, to improve his bachelor nutrition plan and hopefully fend off the hereditary high blood pressure and cholesterol problems. Hence, I didn't exactly tell him I was baking wheat bread. 

 

As you can see, I didn't hide the ingredients from him either. He didn't say a word, but to be honest, I doubt he was really paying attention. The boys are camping out tonight, so they were busy preparing their "site" in the backyard. . .

I also caught myself about to surf the web and look for a recipe when the "use what you have" gong went off in my head again, and I turned to my favorite cookbook. It felt good to turn the pages of my old friend instead of scanning the internet for ages looking for something. 

So baking bread is just a little time consuming but totally worth it. My kitchen has ZERO counter space, but all I did was move my coffee pot and presto! Room to knead!

 So here is the molasses, butter, and milk warming on low to about 120 degrees Fahrenheit. It looked yicky, but didn't smell like I figured it would.

 

 Ready for the first rising! This is when my husband finally asked, "Are you making wheat bread?" I just smiled. I got "the eyebrow" (he often raises his eyebrow when I'm behaving impish and mischievous).

 Now, time to cut in half and put into loaf pans to rest and rise the final time. Never mind the diet Dr. Pepper in the background!

 Ta-da! All done. 

I decided to use my stoneware loaf pans since I haven't used them in ages, so my baking time was a little shortened. That was a good thing because the aroma of baking bread drew both the boys into the house looking to see when they were going to be ready to slice! My husband is now converted: during dinner, through the mouthful of warm, fresh bread and trans-fat-free butter spread he says to me, "I never want to buy bread again. This stuff is incredible. Can you make this from now on?" 

There are few things quite like the satisfaction gleaned from such a warm response to simply using what I already had. How often do we all miss out on such experiences due to a short supply of patience and attraction to convenience?