Because Some Days the Bread Falls Flat

My sweet husband is just about the greatest guy ever. (I'm not dissing *your* hubby, just complimenting mine.)

You see, I spent the last few days literally trying to breathe because every so often my lungs don't work the way they should. It happened in Brazil where a doctor misdiagnosed me with dengue fever. It happened in Moscow (Idaho, not Russia!) when the boys were babies. And it happened this week. My lungs burn and I inhale albuterol and warm steam like nobody's business.

But this post is not about breathing.

It's about baking bread.

So after scrubbing a bazillion pots and pans and doing all the dishes Saturday, Ben decided to bake bread. He has baked bread supervised (by me) before. But yesterday was his first solo flight. He asked a few questions during the mixing process and then brought me the dough-filled Kitchenaid bowl to inspect before tucking it in to rise.

A few hours later we were eating quazi-yummy bread. The loaves rose, but then fell during the big bake. Ben was sad. Something wasn't right. Ben questioned the whole process. Was the butter/sugar/salt/milk combination wrong? Did the pans get bumped? Was the yeast water not warm enough? Was it too warm?

Amid this bread-eating question-asking was his daughter's voice; "Daddy? When can you teach me to bake bread?" (S. is a total daddy's girl, so I was only a little bit shocked that she didn't ask me. Oh, and I was bundled up on the couch barely breathing.)

Sunday morning between meetings Ben baked bread with his daughter. They worked together so well. The questioning questions were still there. I was consulted again before the first rise. (Although not from the couch this time, because I was on the mend.) It looked good. Ready to rise. Ready to bake!


Sunday's bread looked very much like loaves of leavened bread should! Daddy and daughter shared a loaf with the neighbors. They made me smile. They gave me a delicious buttered slice.

Some days the bread falls flat. And some days the bread is so good you forget all about the flat-bread days.