• 15 minute posts,  domesticity,  Stealthy Spy Cooking

    Buns o’ Love

    buns o' love

    I made hamburger buns from scratch last night and they were the most rewarding experience ever. They weren’t super duper healthy full of wheat flour or flax seed or anything but they were from scratch so they had considerably less guar gum and monofalutinwhateveritis. I might just turn out to be a baker after all. Well, maybe. This is a small victory for me.

    I followed this recipe and only altered the rising time. I read the reviews at the bottom and everyone said to let the dough rise longer than twenty minutes, so I did. Good thing I started making them early because of course I didn’t realize I needed to allow extra time to the rising time until I was elbow deep in the dough. That always happens to me.

    pudgies

    The dough was super sticky and I was sure it wouldn’t turn out. I tried to make balls like the recipe said but they looked more like pudgy balls of skin with disgusting flaps and flour globules. Kind of gross actually. But then I remembered how Bethany reassured me that lemon scones looked ugly and they turned out perfectly. So I carried on. Turns out Bethany was right! Dough isn’t always pretty but it sure bakes up nice.

    my pretty buns

    They were so pretty! And the sound they make when you squeeze them? A perfect spongy crunch just like Colette says in Ratatouille. “A symphony of crackle…” I love that line! If you haven’t seen the movie you must watch this clip. It’s my favorite part of the movie.

    I should make bread more often. You know how when you buy hamburger buns at the store there are always too many left over and then they sit around in your kitchen mocking you because they are really good for nothing else except maybe Sloppy Joes or pulled pork and we never make that because Toby hates sugar in his meat (the fool)? And then you end up throwing them out or feeding them to the birds and you feel guilty for wasting? Maybe that’s just me.

    Well with these buns I’m glad there are leftovers! There are tons of leftovers and I’m going to have them for breakfast with butter and jam! Yum!

    Even Bug liked them. She said they were better than McDonald’s which is very high praise coming from her. Toby liked them too. I was feeling a little cocky after such a huge success so I asked Toby what I should try to make tomorrow night. He said ice cream. I said he could buy me an ice cream maker. Harumph.

  • 15 minute posts,  Bad Mom,  Bug

    She’ll Be One Hellacious Teenager Someday

    crazy

    I remember when Bug was really really little and she’d show some sign of being willful or naughty, I’d smile. I had this terrible superstitious fear, deep down, that she was too perfect and that meant she was like an angel and would probably be taken from me. Isn’t that how the stories always go?

    I don’t know why I felt like that. Maybe it’s rooted in the time my Guess Jeans that I loved so much got stolen out of my locker during gym. I know the value of a child and jeans are not really the same but I always feel this way about things that I love so much. Sometimes I don’t even want to put my laptop in my car because I’m afraid that I’ll get in a wreck and I’ll lose Bug, my laptop and my car all in one fell swoop. It’s ridiculous to be me inside my loopy brain.

    Sometimes when I look at Bug and find myself getting lost in her big beautiful eyes, her blonde cascading hair and her perfectly little bouncing crazy body, it’s too much for me. How did I ever get so lucky to have her? I don’t deserve her! I expected so much less and God gave me so much.

    But then the other foot falls and I realize God knew exactly what he was doing. He gave me the most stubborn, evil, drama-queen, devil-child who will eternally exasperate me beyond words. She might look sweet but try forcing her to eat a bite of perfectly delicious strawberry yogurt (that she picked out at the grocery store herself!) and it will turn into an hour-long, snotty, crying, freight train of emotions that can only be saved from complete and utter bloody ruin by eating a bowl of hot buttered noodles in the tub.

    I’m so tired. How will I ever make it to her teens?