I haven’t made bread in awhile and I’m certainly a rookie bread guy (or maybe Private Bread Guy), but I’m borrowing a stand mixer from a friend to see if I can’t live without one. It’s official: I can’t live without one.
My hands are delicate and my arms are puny, so I could never knead the dough adequately. I see that the bread hook (Dr. Hook) can pick up the slack, though.
I was looking up methods to make the bread crusty, and I found this recipe. My recipe was slightly different, but I believe cooking the bread in my cast iron Dutch oven helped increase the crust factor. I thought it was nuts to throw water in the pot, but hey, I’m not the Master Bread Chieftain.
Since Dave Ramsey took over our home two and a half years ago, we haven’t had many opportunities to go enjoy a meal. Today was different because I was only with my fourteen year old daughter, Alli, so it wasn’t too hard on my pocketbook.
I try to frequent local places because franchises sometimes seem really stale, unless of course you are talking about Five Guys. I just love those fries. This afternoon was no exception and we decided to visit The Real Pickle.
It’s been here as long as I can remember. I’ve only been here a couple of times prior, but those gastronomic experiences were definitely memorable. I usually get the shrimp poboy with remoulade sauce because it has always been excellent. Today, it was very good but it was too salty for my taste. We were the first customers of the day. Maybe the chef got too excited and oversalted the shrimp. Maybe I cut him off in traffic one day and he finally had his chance to get back at me. Nonetheless, I go light on the salt in my own cooking and I frequently have had meals at restaurants that were too salty for me. Perhaps I’m just a salt wuss.
On the plus side, the prawns were breaded nice and happy and were a fried jubilee. The spice level was excellent. I love firey hot food, and typically if I can detect ANY heat, it’s too much for many people I know, but I was surprised with a nice, warm burn. The remoulade was remoulade. I don’t care where you get it. Remoulade tastes great. It tastes good on everything. The bread was so light and crusty and had a hint of buttery delight. The fries? Well, they weren’t Five Guys.
Alli had a ham and something on a croissant. It wasn’t mine, so I didn’t pay much attention to it. She liked it and that is what’s important.
In fine, (I’ve always wanted the opportunity to say “in fine” as I remember it from the poem “Richard Cory“). In fine, the most important aspect was that I had an opportunity to spend some quality time with Alli. I need to take her to another Texas BBQ joint soon, but that’s another story.