Ciabatta






Dough is started in advance with very little active yeast and full salt and cold water.

Like driving with one foot on the brakes. Don't you hate driving behind that? It's like, "Get your foot off the brake already."  For how will you know when they're actually stopping?

And half a day later it turns into this. 


And then the same thing all over again except this time with full yeast and warm water so that it goes quickly. For dough.


See? They're different.


One is older than the other by at least twelve hours.

They say punch it down but don't do that, what are you, a woman? 

It's be kind to your dough over here, jab around the edges vigorously, yes, to get flour between the glass and the dough stuck to it, and that does deflate it getting it out of the bowl, yes, but no punching, that's just rude. 


And stretching, yes, there's that, but no punching. My God, who writes that stuff, are they punch happy freaks?


The two doughs unite and become as one with each other, ignoring their differences in ages and life experiences, which are considerable. 



Strrreeetch away from me, play hard to get.


And then come folding right back as you do.


Stretch to me, Baby, come on, stretch.


"CHIP, STOP PLAYING AROUND WITH THAT DOUGH!"


These are the same thing  ↑ ↓ no change in state.



Pulled out to dainty little slippers




Where dainty is women's size 14. 

No comments:

Blog Archive