Ordering online from Costco the other day (online meaning ordering for delivery the next day!), I decided for the 25-pound bag of all-purpose flour.
“I’ll save quite a bit of money,” I thought.
And so arrives the 25-pound bag. And it’s big.
“I’ll do a lot of baking,” I thought.
And so arrives Saturday week later. I’m in the kitchen after sundown, a cup of Earl Grey on the table, and making decisions about what to bake this weekend.
Bread, of course. Specifically peasant bread, my usual early-Sunday-before-church activity. Simple. Relatively fast. Foolproof. And done before I’m out the door to sing God’s praises.
Sunday evening, most likely sourdough, to be baked on Monday or Tuesday morning.
And Saturday evening? Cardamom buns, inspired by Henry on the Great British Baking Show.
All is well. Mise en place is set. And that 25-pound bag of flour is sitting on a bar-height kitchen stool.
I’m mixing away when I hear the bag start to slip. Before I could drop the ingredients in my hands, the bag is on the floor. As is at least two pounds of all-purpose flour.
I couldn’t bear to take a photo; the housekeeper was just here three days ago.
But it looked something like this:
As I write, the dough is on the first proof, and the kitchen is now clean again. Wall to wall. With broom and vacuum and towels and glass cleaner. I could lick this floor and it would be cleaner than my stovetop.
Let’s hope the cardamom buns turn out well.
Here ends the tale of the Great Flour Explosion of 2019.