One-Pot Sprouted Grain No Knead Bread {...so, so good...}

I am so excited to share a recipe I've developed with you.  This is my riff on the famous Jaque Pepin's One Pan Bread Recipe.  Only my recipe uses half sprouted grain flour...and that's the extent of my "development" of the recipe.

But that is enough of a tweak to make this one mine-all-mine.

You don't have to completely spend more than necessary on King Arthur's Organic Sprouted Whole Wheat Flour , but it does make this recipe a little easier to digest - however still not recommended for those with Celiac disease.

Here is what sprouted wheat flour looks like:

It is darker and a tiny bit coarser than all purpose unbleached.  Still, it is very soft and easy to work with.

You toss 4 cups (2 of regular all purpose, 2 of sprouted wheat flour) in a hard anodized, 3-quart nonstick saucepan {...you read that right...a saucepan...}
and whisk in 1 heaping teaspoon of yeast, and a teaspoon of salt - do not use coarse or Kosher salt for this recipe.

...add 2 1/2 - 3 cups of filtered water...

Combine with a wooden spoon until all is incorporated.

Then...put a lid on it.

I'm so sorry to annoy you with pictures of every little step - I got carried away with the moody, luscious light in my kitchen today.

Let it sit for about an hour-and-a-half to two hours.  Your sprouted wheat flour needs a little more time to do its first rise than regular all purpose flour would need.

Here is what it looks like, about 2 hours later:

You're going to stick that wooden spoon into it one more time, and "stir it down".  It will deflate.

Next, you stick it in the fridge for hours and hours, or even overnight.  {...not even lying to you...I would never...}

So I've made it a frivolous goal to have a pretty refrigerator interior, when I can.  My nest is empty now, and I am entitled to some pointless frivolity.  When your nest empties, you will be entitled, too.

This.  makes.  me.  happy.

After hours and hours or even after overnight, your bread dough will look like this:

Put it straight {...forthwith...immediately...instantly...} into a preheated 450 degree oven, and bake it for 35-40 minutes.  Start checking it at the 30 minute mark, because mine browned quickly after that.

See how it beautifully pulled away from the sides of the hard anodized, non stick, 3-quart saucepan?  I was a proud Mimi...so proud of this little loaf of goodness...

Try this recipe.  I promise, it will get you baking your own bread again.

{...and thanks in advance for pinning...I am so grateful to each of you...}

Of Little Girls and Art

This is one of my grand-girls...she is imitating her artist-daddy, Jonathan Howe.  (He always paints in a hat - to nail down his colors and values.)

And since I believe this little girl is perfectly-perfect-in-every-way (in spite of the fact that she is sometimes quite a handful), I am thinking her parents may want to save and frame her masterpieces.  They may be worth a fortune in a few years.

It's happened before.

I can't help but feel great satisfaction, as I too am an artist.  This girl's momma - my daughter Sarah - much preferred seeing how far she could spit a watermelon seed, playing her guitar, and working with drills and saws and hammers.  I am absolutely certain that girls can do anything they want to do, anything God calls them to do, therefore far be it from me to have ever made Sarah stop spitting or put down her hammer and pick up a paintbrush.

Well, I may have tried to make her stop spitting.

But I do so love this picture of her daughter.  I contributed exactly one-quarter of her DNA, see.

In closing, I have always adored this poem, because it makes me think of this little girl's momma....

THERE was a little girl,
And she had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good
She was very, very good,	5
And when she was bad she was horrid (not really...maybe sometimes.)
One day she went upstairs,
When her parents, unawares,
In the kitchen were occupied with meals,
And she stood upon her head	10
In her little trundle-bed,
And then began hooraying with her heels.
Her mother heard the noise,
And she thought it was the boys
A-playing at a combat in the attic;	15
But when she climbed the stair,
And found Jemima (Sarah) there,
She took and she did spank her most emphatic.

In Other News {...Superman is feeling much better, thank you for asking...}

I feel I may as well tell you...

...two weeks ago, on PopPop's birthday, Superman had to be rushed to the ER where he promptly received 8 stitches down the side of his hand, right at the pinky finger.  I thought every single one of us, my oldest boy Josiah included, were going to faint on the spot.  It felt like a big deal.

And never...never...never buy one of these:

I realize I may hear from some of you, telling me how much you have loved your kiddie-puller, but I won't be moved.

Those things, up there, are the devil.  Maybe not that exact brand - but in general, regardless of brand, our whole family now carries special hatred for them.

And Superman and Batgirl (my grand-daughter Aidyn loves to say she is "batgul".) really hate them.

But Batgirl survived the ordeal with just a few scrapes.  Superman was injured.  Just in case anyone was worried about Superman, here is a little slice-of-life just this evening ("This just in!")

Superman was smack-dab in the middle of giving me a devilishly handsome wink, as I snapped the above picture.

Superman is busy watching...well...Superman.  (Not even lying.)  He is resting well, and our good friend Dr. Doug will be removing his stitches come Easter Sunday.