I dashed home from work so I could prepare the Tuesday’s with Dorie Rugelach. I was dreading this recipe since I have never even thought about making rugelach. The closest thing I tasted was the Costco version and I was hoping to come close to achieving something similar. I prepared the dough and waited for it to chill out. Luckily I made the Levkar several days earlier. God knows I didn’t have a clue as to where I would purchase this product. Anyway I set up a work station with each addition in a separate bowl. This made my life so much easier. I faced my fears and started to roll out the dough. It worked out okay and then I started to add each layer. I gave it a roll, a wash and then some of the sugar topping. Popped it in the oven and once again my house began to smell like a bakery. It was wonderful. The finished version was pretty damn good. I love doing this blog, but it’s really hard baking on a work night. I can’t wait to go to bed. God willing my super Beagle Clancy won’t jump on the counter and gobble all my hard work.
Last Monday I went off to work dreaming of the bread I had to bake because my blog was due the following day. As usual I didn’t check the calendar and I was a week early. Much to my chagrin I was a little reluctant to start off with bread. It’s not that I’d never made a loaf of bread before it was just that it had been over 15 years since I’d done so. My husband wouldn’t get out of the kitchen and I started getting testy. I explained to him that it was 5:30pm and I didn’t want to be baking bread until midnight. So he fled like thief in the night. As I began to measure out the ingredients my fears began to dissipate. I was once again in my element. When I added the butter my heart skipped a bit and I thought that I had ruined my first attempt, but I remembered that I would be rolling the bread on a floured board. So I jumped right in and continued to prepare the dough for the first rising. It was a cold night and my house seemed a bit cold. Nonetheless my loaves rose once and twice. I rolled and folded and got those bad boys in the oven. I was so excited. I kept the oven light on the entire time. I felt like I was virgin bread baker all over again. I forgot the wonderful aroma that permeates the entire house. It made me think of my own childhood when my father would make french loaves on cold snowy days. There’s something about that smell that just sort of wraps itself around you and wraps its arms around you. Needless to say the buzzer went off and I awoke from my memories to find two beautiful honey colored loaves. I had done it once again. I was tempted to put an egg or butter wash on top but I did not deviate from the recipe. I wanted to be a purist. I want to follow the recipe as it should be done. Needless to say it was late in the evening so I popped my loaves onto the rack to cool and ran off to bed. I dropped like a stone and continued to dream of my warm loaves of wonderfulness. When I awoke to that wonderful smell once more I thought I was in heaven. Life doesn’t get much better than fresh bread. I recommend you face your fears and jump in with both feet because once you take that first bite of that bread you will be tempted to make it again, and again and a again! Let them eat bread!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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