Flour everywhere

Carmen showed up this morning with a bag of flour and way too much confidence about teaching me to make bread from scratch. “It’s therapeutic,” she said. “You just need to feel the dough.”

Flour everywhere

Turns out I feel the dough by getting it under my fingernails, on my sleeves, and somehow in my hair. Carmen makes it look effortless - push, fold, turn, repeat. When I try the same motions, the dough either sticks to everything or tears apart like wet tissue paper.

The aftermath of my first kneading lesson

Three hours later we’ve got two loaves in the oven and flour coating every surface in our kitchen. Jake walked in, took one look at us, and just started laughing. The bread actually smells amazing though, so maybe Carmen’s onto something with this whole therapeutic baking thing. Even if I look like I wrestled with a bag of flour and lost.