The Baking Mess

Once every week or week and a half we make bread.

Each time we make bread we make a good mess.  I carefully consider how we'll avoid making too much of a mess, but trying to avoid the mess entirely is entirely pointless when the grinder is making flour, dissolving yeast is bubbling, and the mixer is kneading.

It probably doesn't help that my dark floor and counter showcase every sprinkle of wheat flour. 

It probably doesn't help that there are usually six hands involved in the tasks of grinding, measuring, and dumping.

On most days I appreciate my helpers.  E almost always prefers the big clean-up.  A usually sings and comments on the process.  They both anticipate sampling the yeasty dough which is a messy endeavor.

As we work I keep in mind that the end outcome--four loaves of warm brown stuff and a houseful of its aroma--is always worth the extra clean-up.


Here's a mess that was all my own--it's the aftermath of a Boston Creme Pie creation.  I made it (the mess and the cake) in honor of Cydney for her birthday.  For some reason a cake mess seems less of a headache than a bread mess.