Ever talked about past dates on dates? Fine? Verboten?
Friday, January 18, 2013
Sunday, January 6, 2013
For those of you who have read my first post, I said that my goal was to get to the point where I would be happy writing nothing. The other intention that I had, which I did not write in the post, was that I wanted to improve the filter on my mouth and learn to stop saying things that I would normally say.
I got a text the other day that was clearly not intended for me. The content and the wording indicated that it had been meant to be sent to someone else. It was relatively innocent, but would have been awkward had I pointed out that I knew it was meant for someone else. After we had been texting fairly regularly for a few hours, that was the last text I received for 14 hours. I gave the sender a way out of it and when eventually I received a reply, it was to take the out provided by me.
I think it was clear to both of us that I knew it was a mistake. But for the first time, instead of jokingly pointing out the error, I let it go. It would have been embarrassing, and while I would have done it in a light and teasing manner, I knew there would have been some awkwardness.
It feels good, learning to say nothing.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
The irony of what I was doing at the time that I was all but called a girl by “in the vanguard” not once but twice is far from lost on me. Calling on my baking advisor every 10 minutes made me feel like my sister who claims to be on the phone more frequently with my mother about baking/cooking than anything else.
For the first time, I understood what she was talking about. I called on my mother’s invaluable advice a dozen times or two while entering the scary world of challah baking.
“I think I added 3 cups of flour instead of 4, but I'm really not sure. What do I do now?”
“Is it supposed to be looking and feeling like cake batter now?”
“It’s very sticky. It’s not supposed to be like that, is it?”
“It’s still sticky!”
“It’s still sticky!”
"My hand hurts."
“I think I’ve added an additional cup, or two, or three of flour. Is that okay?”
“Is it done rising?”
“Now is it done rising?”
It goes without saying that my mother started ignoring half of my questions. So I winged it.
Here they all are for your viewing pleasure.
The one in the pan is a 3 braid. The far right one is a 6 braid. And the 5 rolls are 5 rolls.
As to why I decided to bake challah, improving one's resume never hurts as one person put it. But I just wanted to do it, so I did. It was nerve-wracking, but now that I did it, and it tastes good, challah baking was a great experience. I highly recommend it.