90 Day Challenge - Bread Dough 1 Jax 0 - Day 13

Just look at that picture. You can just sense the baker's confidence for everything is perfect. The dough is the exact weight so that it will pull apart and be done evenly. There will be no doughy center for this spotless baker with a kitchen that produces the most amazing creations. Just follow the recipe they promise and your end product will turn out this way. Imagine the impression you will make on those that are so special to receive it. Praise will be spoken and a reputation will be started where you are a master baker and your piece de resistance is the cinnamon bun.

This was my before picture, I was so excited.

Today was the day where I was going to make my famous cinnamon buns. I don't really know what makes them famous for I don't have people asking for them but they still keep me a snob of these luscious pull aparts. My mouth started watering for them all week this week and it was decided that this weekend was it; I was going to make them. I had purchased all the ingredients to make sure I had everything except pecans but that was minor and easily attainable.

We were watching a movie last night were the main characters were planning a high level robbery and made a list of goals and rules. One of the main rules was to make sure you plan for the unexpected because unplanned contingencies breed disaster. I felt pretty prepared for making them and felt that confidence and anticipation for I couldn't wait to share them with my husband. The frequency I let out was complete excitement and victory for I could see the end result or at least I thought I did.

First detour to deal with was the fact that I slept in. Normally on weekends I am up between 5 and 6 am and my day starts off running. This morning was odd for I woke up shortly after 3 and it was way too early to start banging around in the kitchen. Instead, I came into my office and started writing as well as listen to a guided meditation. Whenever I do a guided meditation there is a good chance I may fall asleep when I am this tired. I laid down on the couch and listen to the meditation. Before I knew it, the clock read 7:15am and I had slept in. I bolted off the couch and went to make the dough so that it could rise while I went to the store to get the pecans.

Back in the day, making bread was a cathartic and pleasurable experience for me. There really is nothing like the taste of delicious home made bread; it could become a lost art. I read the recipe and there were some directions and ingredients that rang a little weird for me but I followed the steps as directed. Well not all the directions for I didn't measure the flour and was quite cocky about not having too. The error in my arrogance became apparent when I started to mix the dough and it wasn't as soupy as described. Not willing to give up, I believed that I could help the dough with kneading it thoroughly. Lifting up the dough my heart fell a little for it was really heavy. Fear of failure and doubt started to rise up and my throat got constricted. Determination to not waste this dough took over and I gave it an olympic level kneading. I read somewhere that a good place to let your bread rise is in a pre-warmed dryer. The first time I told my family I put my bread in the dryer to rise they all gave me a look as if I was crazy. No people, I put a towel in the dryer to warm it up and then let dough sit in the warm dryer. The look on their faces still cracks me up though lol.

With my dough in my warm dryer I headed off to the store and prayed that a miracle would happen. Hesitant to open the door, I closed my eyes, took a breath and lifted off the towel from the bowl. My stomach fell. The bloody dough didn't look like it rose at all. WHAT?. Dejected, I took the dough to the counter and proceeded with making the buns. The dough felt like playdoh and I wondered why in the hell I was still continuing. I remembered the picture of the recipe and looked down at this debacle in front of me and mine looked like an artificial version instead. To help the yeast I preheated the oven and let them sit in there to raise. To my surprise, when I opened the oven door my buns did indeed resemble bread instead of fondant. With new enthusiasm and visions of success I placed them in my gas oven.

Lately some of my creations have been either over-cooked or under-cooked. It seems that no matter what adjustment I make for the heat I miss the mark; this was no exception. I used glass bakeware, which I've used before, and the buns were very done on the top by they were doughy on the bottom. Not sure what happened there for I set the timer to compensate for the theoretical high heat of the oven. Seriously? How did I not set myself up for success? As far as I was concerned the only frequency I was sending was one including a blue ribbon.

Still not willing to throw in the towel, I figure that I can just take my cast iron pan and preheat it with melted butter. If I place them in the hot butter it can give a nice crispy bottom and slowly solidify that center. Did it work? Nope. So how did this fiasco happen? How is this situation a blessing? They do taste absolutely sensational and were exactly what I wanted them to taste like; it's only the consistency that was the problem. Did you just hear yourself Jax? It's only the consistency that was the PROBLEM.

Maybe that's what the buns are trying to tell me... that consistency is my problem. It sure has been.

Well played bread dough, well played.

Today I will take a moment when things seem to fall apart and find some space to allow the answer to come forward.