After dinner, I beat two cups of whole wheat flour and a teaspoonful of salt into the water, making it the consistency of pancake batter. Then, I covered it and left it for an hour or two, when I stirred in a cup or so of white flour. By then, it was a sticky dough, too thick to stir easily.
Another hour later, I dumped it out onto a small pile of white flour, maybe another cupful.
I kneaded it for three or four minutes, using lots of flour because it was so sticky. Then I put it back into the bowl, moved the bowl into a cool spot near a window, and went to bed. If you added the time I spent on it all together, it would total about ten minutes during the evening.
This morning, while I was waiting for my coffee to be ready, I formed the bread dough into a loaf and put it near the stove to rise. By the time I had to go milk, it was nicely risen and the oven was hot. I put it in the oven for a few minutes, then covered it loosely with tinfoil and went out to the barn. When I came in, I took out our fresh, hot breakfast loaf. Pretty lazy, huh?
I wish I knew how to make bread. It fascinates me.
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