When we were in Pennsylvania for our Christmas family gathering, I noticed that my cousin Zoe was proofing her bread dough in gorgeous, oblong, homemade baskets. I raved, of course, and then Zoe promptly went to her pantry, plucked a proofing basket from the shelf, and said, “Here, take this. It’s an extra.” 

And then I said, if she was going to make more, I’d like to buy another one so I’d have a pair. Of course, she said. But you’ll have to wait until I get more clothesline rope. (Because that’s what she uses to make the baskets, and she only gets it from thrift stores.)

Five long months passed and then, when we hosted the family gathering this summer, she brought me my basket, plus two more—sturdy round ones—and she wouldn’t take any money! It was a hostess gift, she said.

Well, tickle me pink.

Both kinds of baskets, the oblong and the round ones, work beautifully, but I’m particularly partial to the long ovals which fit more easily into the fridge and sit so nice and pretty on the baking stone. The baskets are pliable, so when dumping the dough onto the baking sheet, they can be semi-inverted.

All the baskets are easy to take care of. Before using, just shake out any excess flour and crumbs and then dust heavily with fresh flour. After using, tap out the excess flour and squirrel them away in the cupboard. That’s it!

When I began this post, I planned to link to Zoe’s Etsy page so that y’all could get yourselves some Zoe Baskets. But alas, alack, Zoe’s supply of thriftstore clothesline has dwindled and she’s no longer making the baskets. Which makes this whole post is kind of anticlimactic. My apologies.

But! There are options! You can either purchase a proofing basket here or you could turn Zoe-esque and make your own. Either way, do pop into her shop and look around. I strongly suggest you snatch up some of her killer hot pads on your way out.

This same time, years previous: the quotidian (7.25.16), we’re back!, the boy and the tooth, chocolate mint ice cream cone cake, roasted corn with lime and feta, spicy Indian potatoes, blackberry cobbler.

This same time, years previous: vegetarian groundnut stew, a riding lesson, rellenitos, the quotidian (7.23.12), pumpkin seed pesto, cucumber lemon water, limeade concentrate, braised cabbage.

Oh, people, this heat! All week long, I’ve been coping okay, but I don’t think I can handle the sticky, oily skin, the wet humidity, the entire-body fatigue for much longer. This afternoon, in the middle of a cooking tornado in which I had the oven cranked to 400 degrees for several consecutive hours (roasted beets, roasted zucchini), I turned the radio on just in time to hear the announcer report that lows would be in the 70s, highs in the 90s, the weather muggy-uggy for the entire weekend, and my soul shriveled. I actually felt it.

Last night one of the writing groups met at our house. I placed two fans at either end of the dining room table. Maybe if the hot air was moving, people wouldn’t notice it so much? The blinds over the sink were closed, and I’d left up the ratty blanket that we hang in front of the deck door to block the blistering sun, so in the dim light, the kitchen looked dingy-dirty. But oh well. To hell with appearances—survival was all that mattered.

We sat around the table, our shorts, t-shirts, even our hair and the skin on the back of legs, sticking to the chairs so that every now and then we’d have to lean forward, gingerly peeling fabric and flesh from wood. I served tap water with ice, chilled white wine, and cake, just zucchini bread that I’d baked in a round pan and then stashed in the freezer for moments such as this.

While it was still frozen, I’d iced it with the leftover cream cheese frosting—packed with butter and cream cheese, and spiked with lots of fresh lemon juice, this new favorite of mine tastes cheesier than my standard cream cheese frosting, almost like a cheesecake (!!) but in icing form—from my daughter’s birthday cake, and then popped it in the jelly cupboard while we ate our supper and cleaned up the house. A couple hours later when I pulled it from the cupboard, the glass cakestand was gloriously chilly, beads of cold water clinging sexily to the plate’s underside.

Towards the end of the meeting, a breeze picked up so I threw wide the deck door, trying to catch as much fresh, summer night air as possible, and by the time everyone left, the inside temperature had dropped to 84 degrees, only two degrees lower than what it had been when everyone arrived, but still. It felt lovely.

Lemony Cream Cheese Frosting
Adapted from Epicurious.

2½ sticks butter
2½ 8-ounce packages of cream cheese
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 teaspoons vanilla
¼ teaspoon salt
3¼ cups confectioners’ sugar, sifted

Beat the butter and cream cheese until creamy, and then beat in the lemon juice, salt, and vanilla. Add the confectioner’s sugar and beat until smooth.

This same time, years previous: all practicality, on his own, the quotidian (7.21.14), how to beat the heat, homemade shampoo and conditioner, salvation’s chocolate chip cookies.