knead for speed

being nineteen and living at home during college is about having a bent of a few months, maybe less (say, half of a semester, or maybe only as long as you could truly manage waking up early, with that whole decked-out productivity routine), where you really get into baking bread.

you love it. you're mastering the craft in a way an occasional coffee cake or batch of cookies over the years never quite could or did. you and the stand mixer become boon companions. you and the yeast jar make friends with the fridge. oh, the stick thermometer!

and you love that recipe for no-knead bread. works great! overnight, you can time out exactly when to start the pre-bake rest (and the reshaping that, really - isn't it kneading?) and the pre-heat oven. it's just enough discipline, to get the project going before bed.

your twenties, and your first apartment, are about becoming disillusioned with the appeal of no-knead bread.

really? why can't i knead it? what's the big deal?

and since the recipe suddenly seems to blatantly overhydrate the "dough" (it's hardly progressed past being batter) and you have to fix it by feel, each turn of the bench scraper building confidence, and each day when you actually have three hours to kill on the active proofing element has been made worthwhile without, necessarily, the presence of an appointment looming and overturning your overwrought mind...

the bread knows no calendar. the bread waits until you wake up. and then, the bread will be kneaded.

it's like leaving your house and noticing the neighbors' garbage can sitting askew in the alley, then returning later that night and taking note of your other neighbors' cans sitting at the curb stuffed to the brim with holiday detritus. aha, you think. so that's why it was. one knew the adjusted schedule. the other didn't. and now you'll bet...indeed, there is their can at your curb. now your can can join it. conflict, and resolution. a feel for your environment. and a willingness to wait until next week, had you not seen these signals at all.

so maybe it's time to move back on to breadsticks, now.