d'oh!

Now that Stef’s right hand is out of commission, she needs help in the kitchen. Girlfriend is a great cook; she uses only the freshest, finest ingredients and usually makes EVERYTHING from scratch. This is awesome – until you’re the friend that gets suckered into being her hands when she needs to make bread. (haha, just kidding Stef, I love you…ha…ha…).

No but seriously. It’s a lot of work. Last Thursday I was over there making the dough for a whole grain & oat bread and a potato bread and for being my first bread making experience (outside of popping open a Pillsbury roll canister), I felt I did a good job.

I got a little cocky this past Wednesday with the pizza dough.

The dough started off just fine, I had retained most of what I had learned 6 days prior and felt like a natural. When it came time to add the 110 degree water to yeast, I didn’t hesitate when Stef said “add 2 full cups and let it sit 10 minutes” as I took the measuring cup from her. So I added 2.

10 minutes later (after waiting for the yeast to “activate”), Stef said “Now, add 2 more cups of water.” I get the water to the correct temperature and add 1 full thing of water. Then I look at the bowl of water and yeast and notice that it is very full. Way more full than the other time even if we are making a larger yield this time.

“Uh, Stef. You want me to add 2?”

“Yup. 2 cups.”

“Uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. 2 cups?”

“Yeah, that is a 2 cup measuring cup, so, just 1 of those.”

“Ok, I added 1.”

“Wait. How many did you add 10 minutes ago?”

“Uhhh….2.”

“2? Meaning a total of 4 cups?”

“Potentially.”

“Oh boy.”

After a few quick calculations in her head, Stef figured out a plan and a recipe to save the dough. The only thing was that there was going to be a shit ton of bread. Which meant a shit ton of dough. Which meant I had to put on an apron.

There was dough (d'oh!) everywhere! All over me, all over Stef, all over the counter and some on the walls. When we were done and ready for the first rise, we put the dough ball into the biggest bowl she had, but that couldn’t contain it. Shortly it started rising and became so big it had escaped the containment of the bowl. It was growing and legitimately threatened to take over the entire kitchen. Stef punched it back into the bowl, but it just kept on growing.

And growing.

When it was all said and done, we had 7 pizzas and 2 calzones the size of dinosaur eggs.

Just to make you guys all drool, my favorite (if you could pick one!) was the goat-cheese pesto with mozzeralla, spicky chicken, dried apricots, mushroom and spicky goat cheese spinkled on top. I would battle that dough monster again for just one more slice of that pie!