My bread-addled brain views this series of photos as a kind of... yeasty striptease.
Look again, you'll see it.
...
Or it'll put the final nail in my perverted, breaded coffin.
It even sort of looks like a coffin...
More bread here.
A week without bread baking and then two loaves in one day*:
(basic Soda Bread recipe with a couple of tablespoons of pesto... not as awesome as i thought it would be)
(sweetened Soda Bread with a tiny, minuscule, loaf altering mistake... when the recipe says Baking Soda it means Bicarbonate of Soda, not Baking Powder... my bad)
More bread here.
On repeat.
The trash cloud awakens.
4am. First snowfall of 2016.
This voice.
Take one bread obsessed girl, add in leftover mashed potato and what do you get?
One minor, fluttery freakout and bread that tastes like a freaking scone, that's what you get.
Now, i don't actually like scones, to me they taste like cakey dust bunnies so really i shouldn't like this at all but... sense has never gone hand in hand with my bread fury.
Eat this with all the jam.
...
This is the point where i'd accost you with yet another gif to reflect my feelings because i'm now incapable of voicing them in any other form but channel 4 have deemed Dylan Moran saying "Jam, jam, jam. Jam, jam, jam. Eughhh." unworthy of inter-web tomfoolery so...
More bread, here.
Justin Bieber makes my skin crawl but damn, this is good.
Fuck, i love this band.
My second attempt at blessed Beer Bread, this time using Peroni instead of Guinness.
...
It was definitely the Guinness i had a problem with because you see those tiny air bubbles? Those magical gaps that make bread taste like a Norse god served on a silver platter? I want to get all Innerspace up in there and loll around for a few thousand hours until i'm sick of the sight of bread - which is the most unlikely event in the history of the universe.
THE.
This was made in an hour by the way.
A bloody hour.
Make it now, just do it, you'll even have lager to spare.
Bread ventures, here.
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