Lately, I’ve taken to stuffing my sourdough bread chock full of yummies.

It spices up the baking grind . . . literally. (I get bored easily.)

Cumin seed gouda and jalapeños: strong flavor, earthy and toasty, good as toast
Aged colby and jalapeños: a good amount of heat, a damn fine grilled cheese, classic
Pesto and cheese: the pesto loses its brightness during baking, meh
Pesto, pepperoni, and cheese: the pepperoni didn’t add much and made the bread tough to slice (I prefer classic pepperoni rolls)

For optimum gooeyness, cubes of cheese are imperative.

***

For our family movie night a few weeks back, we watched One Life, a movie based on the true story of the young man who worked to save hundreds of Jewish children from the Nazis.

I’ve been craving stories of real people who act counter to mainstream culture. While this movie fed my “savior” mentality (something I try to keep in check), it’s also a story about a person who not only dared to say no to evil, he did something about it. That, I think, is worth paying attention to. 

***

My mother is a house plant goddess but I can’t keep plants alive to save my life. So the other day, she sent me a link with instructions to immediately purchase a gadget that she claimed would solve (many of) my plant problems.

Turns out, it’s a simple tool: just jam it into the soil and it tells you if you need to water your plant or not.

It was interesting to learn that some of the plants that felt bone dry to the touch were actually water-logged. 

Maybe this will fix my problem? We’ll see.

***

Would You Harbor Me — not a rhetorical question.

***

Want to know a trick for get better lift for your hair? A few weeks back, I stumbled on a video of a woman clipping pins into the roots of her wet hair to add volume, and I immediately bought a pack of clips.

Now after washing my hair, I clip my hair wherever I want more lift and then let it air dry.

Sometimes my hair ends up looking aggressively bumpy in weird spots, but it soon calms down. Over all, it leaves my hair feeling fuller. 

P.S. A friend gave me this product, which I’ve been using.

It makes my hair more crunchy than other products, but — BUT — it also gives me the most defined curls. 

***

Have you seen Apple Cider Vinegar? I can’t stop thinking about it and I’ve been talking about the show to everyone. The acting is amazing and the storyline is nuanced and rich.

My husband refused to watch it. He can’t handle awkward stories, and he really can’t handle watching people take advantage of other people. I, on the other hand, found the deception and its accompanying deepdive into human psychology, wellness, dying, neediness, fame, and relationships to be profoundly soothing and entertaining. (For season one of Night Agent, which we just finished watching together, our roles reversed: he was calm and relaxed while I writhed about on the sofa in physical agony from the suspense.)

This same time, years previous: guild day birthday, honey, the cheezer, update from the north, milk bread, the quotidian (3.25.19), the quotidian (3.26.18), apricot couronne, the tables are turning, the Tuesday boost, maple pecan scones.

Quotidian: daily, usual or customary;
everyday; ordinary; commonplace

The leftover tumble.

Perfecting my cottage cheese game.

Triple pepper goodness.

Pizza prep.

Younger daughter’s purchase but her mail delivers to my house, wink-wink.

Celebrating 21: the whipped-cream pop.

Almost nailed it.

Pinned.

He claims his brain feels like his desk looks.

Expensive vs. cheap: guess which one works better.

Roadtripping.

We like pretzels.

Keeping up with Grandma.

This town is like a real-life Hallmark set.

Post-trip: a cake to showcase the chocolate I bought.

This same time, years previous: soup and bread, spiced gouda divino, the milking parlor, the quotidian (3.16.20), all things Irish, a good reminder, the quotidian (3.17.14), warmth, my reality, enhanced.

A few weeks ago, one of my friends brought a piece of bread to a meeting. It was just plopped there, in front of her on the table. A single slice of bread. Just sitting there. Alone.

Can I taste it? I asked. Oh, sure, she said.

I tore off a hunk and popped a piece in my mouth. 

Fireworks. Buttery. Light. Chewy. My eyes bugged. What the heck IS this? I mouthed across the table. Focaccia, she mouthed back. I fell back against my seat, chewing slowly and fluttering my oil-slicked fingers, trying my darndest not to slide off my chair in a puddle of ecstasy. 

She gave me the recipe then, she did. Bless her heart. 

After the first batch of focaccia, this is what people said:

It’s like fried bread.
Wow.
Can I have more?
That egg sandwich was so good.
It’s so light!
Holy cow.
That focaccia is really good.
My sandwich today. . . [long sigh]. . . That bread makes the best sandwich.
Is there more?
What?! It’s all gone already? Nooooo!
Can you make more?

I made a second batch then. We ate it last night with our baked ziti. I used the focaccia to sop up all the meaty, cheese, tomato-y juices and it was so wildly delicious it almost felt unethical. 

Focaccia is supposed to be all jazzed up with herbs, cheeses, and olives and such, but so far, I’ve only made the plain version. When you find something this perfect, you don’t mess with it. 

(Not yet, at least. One of these days, I might get plucky.)

This is best eaten the same day it’s made, but leftovers are wonderful as toast, or split in half to make the most fan-TAB-ulous sandwiches. Really stale focaccia makes kickass croutons (I would imagine). Another idea: cut the focaccia into long fingers for grilled cheese stick sandwiches.

I wrote that, and then of course I had to go and make grilled cheese sandwiches for supper.

Sliced focaccia with pesto, two kinds of homemade cheese, and pepperoni, mmmm.

And then it occured to me that this focaccia, sliced like so, would make the perfect base for bruscetta. Tomato season, get here NOW.

Best Focaccia In The Whole Damn World
Adapted from my friend’s recipe.

I used a three-fourth sheet tray to bake this focaccia. The dough could fit in a regular half-sheet tray, but the focaccia will be thicker. 

If serving focaccia for a 6:00 pm supper, start the dough by 2:00 pm. 

850 grams warm water
12 grams yeast
5 grams sugar
1000 grams bread flour
20 grams salt
Olive oil

In the bowl of a stand mixer (hand mixing works fine, too!), swirl the warm water with the yeast and sugar. Let rest for 5-10 minutes. Add the bread flour and salt and mix on medium speed for 4-6 minutes. The dough will be soppy wet, almost like a thick pancake batter.

Pour the dough into a bowl and cover with plastic. Let it rest for 30 minutes. Using wet hands, stretch and fold the dough about 6 times. The more you stretch it, the tighter and firmer the dough will become. Repeat this 30-minute rest followed by the stretch-and-fold treatment three more times. After the final stretch and fold, let the dough rest another 30 minutes.

Coat the bottom of a three-fourth sheet tray (or a big sided baking sheet) with a lot of olive oil. Like, start with a half cup or so. Now is not the time to be scroogy.

Pour the dough into the pan and then flip the dough so the dough’s surface is coated in oil. Gently tug the dough to fit the pan; it’s fine if the dough doesn’t perfectly reach the edges. Let the dough rest for 30 minutes. (I place mine in the oven on the “proof” setting.)

Once again, gently stretch the dough to fit the pan. Let it rest another 10 minutes, and, while waiting, preheat the oven to 425 degrees.

Now! Gently, luxuriously, deeply dimple the dough with your oiled fingers. Really get in there. If the oil has pooled in the corners of the pan, spoon it back on top of the dough, and then add more oil, if desired. Do not be shy. 

Bake the focaccia for 20-30 minutes. Cut into fat squares and devour. 

*photo credits of action shots: my younger son

This same time, years previous: two things, the quotidian (3.14.22), cherry bounce, the coronavirus diaries, puff pastry, expanded, fresh ginger cookies, the quotidian (3.14.16), raspberry ricotta cake, chocolate babka.