What a wonderful essay. I too learned to draw that box and also a horse head that is perfect every time. (I could show you!) I was bedeviled by perception for a long time, too. Everything you say is true and learning the hard way is often the only way.;)
Love the bloomer lo, Elissa, but next time why not try stretching the time out, giving it an overnight rise, even giving it a second rise? Each time the flavor will improve. This is based on a long ago instruction from master baker Ed Behr, improved by equally master baker Jim Leahy
I might just, but this was Laurie's recipe, which was a throw-it-together-go-out-come-home-make-bread sort of situation; if you read the essay that goes with it in Home Cooking, it's all about simplicity and speed (although I love and highly respect both Ed and Jim, the latter of whom has rescued me more than once, and I'm certain that the flavor would be improved!) x
I LOVE THIS!!! As a child I collected paper. I did have a true appreciation for the qualities of the various papers themselves, and a fascination with the machine or hand manufacturing processes used to create them (and would go on to work in the printing industry for a time), but there was always an accompanying sense of repressed creativity--an unfulfilled longing--because I felt that anything I might do with the paper would not be worthy of spoiling the perfect, lovely sheet that held such potential. I still have boxes filled with blank, special papers. Thankfully, over the course of 61 years, I too have discovered the joys of letting go of perfectionism and playing with colors and materials just for the enjoyment of them. Occasionally I end up with a knitted scarf or a pair of elastic-waist pants suitable for wearing around the house. Maybe someday I'll go on a tear and bind up all that paper into fun notebooks and journals that might not be so intimidating to write on. Your post just sparked that idea--wow, thanks, Elissa! There really is something to that concept that when you heal yourself, you heal the world.
Love this, Elissa
🙏🏻❤️
What a wonderful essay. I too learned to draw that box and also a horse head that is perfect every time. (I could show you!) I was bedeviled by perception for a long time, too. Everything you say is true and learning the hard way is often the only way.;)
Thank you - and yes....please! Teach me how to draw a perfect horse head! Mine always look like a thumb with ears. Thank you for the kind words - E
Love the bloomer lo, Elissa, but next time why not try stretching the time out, giving it an overnight rise, even giving it a second rise? Each time the flavor will improve. This is based on a long ago instruction from master baker Ed Behr, improved by equally master baker Jim Leahy
I might just, but this was Laurie's recipe, which was a throw-it-together-go-out-come-home-make-bread sort of situation; if you read the essay that goes with it in Home Cooking, it's all about simplicity and speed (although I love and highly respect both Ed and Jim, the latter of whom has rescued me more than once, and I'm certain that the flavor would be improved!) x
I LOVE THIS!!! As a child I collected paper. I did have a true appreciation for the qualities of the various papers themselves, and a fascination with the machine or hand manufacturing processes used to create them (and would go on to work in the printing industry for a time), but there was always an accompanying sense of repressed creativity--an unfulfilled longing--because I felt that anything I might do with the paper would not be worthy of spoiling the perfect, lovely sheet that held such potential. I still have boxes filled with blank, special papers. Thankfully, over the course of 61 years, I too have discovered the joys of letting go of perfectionism and playing with colors and materials just for the enjoyment of them. Occasionally I end up with a knitted scarf or a pair of elastic-waist pants suitable for wearing around the house. Maybe someday I'll go on a tear and bind up all that paper into fun notebooks and journals that might not be so intimidating to write on. Your post just sparked that idea--wow, thanks, Elissa! There really is something to that concept that when you heal yourself, you heal the world.