Three loaves of bread and some half-baked puns.

I don’t think I’m too far off when I say bread is an almost-necessity.
I mean, you need bread for a lot of things… sandwiches, to eat with chicken soup, and to make dressing on Thanksgiving… and where would you put your jelly if you didn’t have bread?
I really love bread, in every form. Biscuits, especially. But any other kind of bread is wonderful too.
My mom always made bread when I was growing up. Then, when I got toward the older end of “growing up,” I started making the bread. I was raised on homemade bread. (get it? hahaha.) Of course, mom always made whole-wheat bread… and she ground the wheat herself, right there in the kitchen, moments before she made the bread.

Mom got a new mixer for mother’s day, and she was awesome enough to give me her old mixer. I was super excited that I would be able to make bread like mom… even though I didn’t have a handy-dandy wheat grinder. It turns out, though, that in Alaska, the lack of wheat grinder was the yeast of my worries (bahahah!).

Because my “new-to-me” mixer was so large, I decided to leave it out of the trunk when we drove up here, and instead brought along a little hand mixer. It is the hand mixer that Jonathan had used while he was in school, and it is OLLLLDDDD. I had never used it before, so I was really sad to find that it was basically useless when it comes to… well… mixing. It does well as a space-filler in my drawer, but when you try to get it to do what it’s meant to do, you have problems.
If you’re doing something that puts very little stress on it, like making mashed potatoes, it’s alright. But if you want to do anything “heavy duty,” like make cookies, it’s not pretty. For Halloween, I had the bright idea of making cookies to hand out instead of buying candy. By the time I had mixed up two batches of brownie cookies (which are DELICIOUS, by the way… go make them!) the mixer smelled like it was on fire and was whimpering like a puppy in a freezer (which has never actually happened in this house).

Making bread with this mixer was obviously out of the question. I lamented this fact to my mom, who helpfully offered to MAIL me my mixer! Yay! She stuck it in a box, carried it to the post office, and sent it on it’s way. It was supposed to take a week, and would arrive about a week and a half before SHE did when she came to visit.

But by the time she arrived, the mixer still had not. It was still loafing around somewhere between here and there. (I’m done with the bread puns now. Maybe.)

We checked the post office regularly, but it never showed up. So, we sadly used my groaning, smoking hand mixer to mash our potatoes on Thanksgiving day.

When mom got home, she sent me the tracking number for my mixer. I looked it up online, and found that it had actually arrived in Glennallen the Tuesday before, and had apparently been at the post office waiting on us for a while.
Jonathan and I marched to the post office to investigate, and found that it was, indeed, there… because of an address mix up, it just hadn’t made it to our box.

NOW I can make bread! And I did! I was very excited about it. Even if it isn’t whole wheat, it’s still delicious (I hope… I haven’t actually tried it yet.) The recipe was for two loaves, but since I had to buy smaller-than-normal disposable pans (which I don’t plan on disposing of), I divided it into three loaves.

And I did an awesome job of dividing them evenly, can’t you tell?

Another joke. They look like the bars in one of those old cell phone commercials (what company was that? I can’t find it.)

And, as I type this, there are three equally unequally divided loaves (see if you can decode that) of banana-nut bread in the oven. They smell yummy.

After something like three or four blogs about cooking disasters within a few days’ time (and a few cooking disasters that went un-blogged about), it is nice to say I succeeded in the kitchen. Raise the roof! Nothing went a-rye this time.

Okay. REALLY. No more crumby jokes… even though I’m on a roll. Thanks to my dad, this kind of thing is just in-grained in me.

Now I just need jelly.

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