Weather: 50 degrees, bright blue sky
What I’m listening to: Nuvole Bianche, Ludovico Einaudi
I’m not sure there’s a smell I like better in the world than the smell of homemade bread baking in the oven. It reminds me of helping my grandmother in the kitchen when I was a preschooler, standing on my stool and helping hand-knead the dough on the countertop. And, when I was making this bread, my four-year-old daughter wanted to sit on the counter and help me. Of course, helping me also means sneaking samples of the dough, just like I used to do so many years ago.
I converted this recipe from European measurements, and with a few slight adaptations, was extremely pleased with the results. It’s a tender wheat bread, sweetened with pure maple syrup, and bursting with texture from the nuts, seeds, and fruit in the trail mix.
It bakes up just beautifully. I wonder if there’s anyone in the world as incapable of waiting to slice into a loaf of bread until it’s cool as I am? No matter how many times I try to convince myself to wait because it will slice better when it’s cool, I can’t do it. Tragically flawed, I am. There’s nothing like bread hot from the oven with a little bit of butter.