My bread machine died this week.
I never thought that I would be a bread machine person. Especially in France, all those wonderful baguettes and croissants!
About 9 months ago a friend gave me one. It was given to her by a friend who was going back to the UK. I guess all bread is good in the UK. Chris already had a bread machine so I was the lucky recipient of this one.
I loved it. This past summer I made focaccia at least once a week. Every time we were invited anywhere and I asked what I could bring the answer was focaccia. I made it with fresh basil, with tomatoes from the garden, with cheese, with olives, with whatever I felt like using.
I found a recipe for hamburger buns and made those. Wonderful. Hamburger buns in France look like real burger buns but they taste like the sweet pain au lait buns that they sell here for breakfast.
Getting adventurous I made pita breads. Sometimes I can get them in Carcassonne but there’re never fresh. I regularly make 5 grain bread with sunflower and flax seeds. The only thing I’ve never made is plain old white bread.
I started to last week. I had everything in the pan ready to go and that’s when the bread machine died. The heating element just stopped heating.
I know it isn’t difficult to make bread by hand. I lived in Zambia for two years in the early eighties and made my own bread all the time. I probably still could.
I’d have to pay attention to the time and make sure I didn’t forget that I had bread rising. And all that kneading is hard on my wrists. And the mess! All that flour to clean off the work top.