Hip Girl's Guide to Homemaking
Taking the stress out of living thoughtfully in the modern worldYes You Can (Part II)
As I try to tell you how NOT confusing this whole bread from scratch thing is, I realize that my series’ numbering system is sorta confusing. You have your supplies already because you read this, the first post in this series, so now you’re ready for Part Deux or Night One (see? confusing, I know.)
This is a two day recipe. [Breathe here] All that really means is that you have two short, after-work activities for two separate evenings. This is not a whip it up and have something on the table in two hours kind of recipe (those I find unreasonable, and sort of unmanageable since I’m less likely to cook the rest of dinner after something like that.)
So, Night One begins:
Your first evening’s work will require about a half hour of your time. Are you ready?
Easy Honey Wheat Bread Recipe, Slow Rising
Adapted from the Joy of Cooking (my new favorite book, really)
In a large mixing bowl combine the following:
2 ½ teaspoons active dry yeast (you will need two yeast packets, since packets usually contain 2 ¼ teaspoons)
2 ½ tablespoons room temp water (between 80 and 105° F)
Stir the yeast so all of it dissolves in the water; this may require a finger or two to get the gummy yeast off your spoon. You know it’s dissolved when it’s an opaque liquid and there are no more clumps of gooey yeast floating around. Let this sit for 5 minutes while you measure the rest of your ingredients.
Add the following ingredients to the yeast water to get your dough started:
1 ½ cups whole wheat bread flour
1 ½ cups all purpose white flour
2 tablespoons honey dissolved to a liquid in ¼ cup boiled water*
1 tablespoon salt
1 tablespoon melted butter
¾ cup cold water
*You may substitute for 2 tablespoons of sugar; just add an extra ¼ cup of cold water.
At this point the dough will be very sticky and increasingly difficult to stir with your spoon. I usually ditch the spoon and start using my hands as I add in the following:
1 cup whole wheat bread flour
1 cup all purpose white flour
You can mix these two cups of flour together before adding them to the dough mixture if you’d like, but it’s not essential. This is the point at which the dough starts becoming a cohesive ball, and I usually dump it out on the clean counter to work in the last bit of flour. Rarely do I use all of the two cups here, so it’s important to progressively add in the flour and not just dump it all on the dough at once. The consistency you’re looking for is a moderately firm, not sticky lump. If the dough is still sticking to your hands or to the counter, you should add more flour.

the blob, note the bread machine and the mixer in the background, neither of which are necessary (nor desirable) for this recipe.
Your dough ball is going to be firm and tight at first because you just packed a bunch of dry flour into it. Just like with an inactive muscle, you’re going to warm it up by kneading.
Time to Knead!
Kneading your dough allows the flour to develop its gluten “muscle” strength. As you work your dough it will become stretchy and more elastic, a perfect shell to house millions of yeast-produced carbon dioxide pockets. Yum.
First, dust a little flour on the clean countertop. Kneading is easy; there’s a little method involved, but you may personalize your kneading style as you get more practice. Just fold the dough over itself (like a taco) and then work it flat with the heel of your hands (lower palm.)
Pick up the big pancake-looking thing, flip it over and then repeat the taco roll and flattening, over and over again. Every now and then pick the dough up and slam it down on the counter with a big whack! The kitchen counter is probably a little high for the average person, since you want to use your whole body to push down on the dough, but it works just fine. I knead on the counters because I don’t have a sturdy, thigh-high table at my disposal.
Turn on some music and work that dough. Knead for 10 minutes, or for about three songs (depending on what type of music you’re listening to.)
Things to think about while you knead:
+Ancient Egyptians sometimes used their toes to knead bread dough. Can you imagine?!
+Bread making has been the responsibility of both men and women throughout various cultures’ histories, a domestic task for either Him or Her.
+French women dropped balls of dough in baskets and placed them under the “conjugal bed covers” to let the yeast rise. Bread in the bed!
+Breathing: are you still doing it? Kneading is an excellent time to make up for all the breathing you didn’t do earlier in the day. Try taking slow deliberate inhales and exhales while you work out a rhythm with the dough.
+What a great arm workout you’re getting (and you didn’t even have to brave traffic or transit to get it!)
Rise and Shine!
Now, here’s where you get to take the rest of the night off. Your dough is still on the counter relishing its post-knead workout and you have a pile of dirty dishes, a mixing bowl, measuring cups and spoons, staring at you from the sink. I only have one large mixing bowl, so at this point I have to wash it.
Once the bowl is washed and dried, I add roughly one teaspoon of olive oil, roll it around (or spread with my hands, a bonus cuticle moisturizer!) Then, grab your dough ball, drop it in the bowl and flip it over once, so both sides of the dough are glazed with oil. Cover it with a towel and put the bowl in the fridge for the night.
When you leave for work the next day, set the towel-covered bowl out on the countertop to rise at room temp all day. Your yeast will be working all day, just like you.
Birthdays, Oaxaca and Muertos
It’s my dear’s birthday tomorrow. It’s also Dia De Los Muertos, my favorite holiday. The next best thing besides being in Mexico is baking something Oaxaca-esque.
Dressing up as Frida for Halloween also helped beat the not-in-Mexico blues.
Back to baking. I wanted a simple chocolate cake situation since I’m easing into this whole domesticity thing, since I don’t know how to work this Ferrari of a mixer that lives on my counter. As my late 20’s ensues, I’m noticing more KitchenAid mixers popping up on married friends’ countertops. Registries work for the prevailing philosophy: Apparently you’re hitched and now you shall provide baked goods for your family.
It’s illegal for me to get married where I live (and in 44 other US states), so I received my fancy mixer as a birthday gift this year from a mother who was tired of hearing me complain about inequalities and basic civil rights and stuff. These machines are really cool (and really expensive.)
As I hunted for recipes, everyone on Twitter kept telling me to use this or that mix, but I was itchin’ to make a scratch cake. I don’t eat wheat (gluten) so my desired simple chocolate cake situation also had to be gluten free. I found the right recipe via Gluten Free Mommy. It even has “no frills” in the title; this was the real clincher for me. My kitchen isn’t really equipped for frills (beyond the mixer); I just don’t have room for excess tools. Plus, I’ve tried a few of her other recipes and they’re simple enough to follow and I always get good results.
As I plotted my plan of attack and shopped for a the supplies not already in my cabinets, I decided to multiply the recipe by one and a half. I wanted to make cupcakes on the side, why not?
Three things happened as I worked through the recipe:
1. I decided that this is probably one of the easiest baking experiences I’ve had (including baking with mixes.) Yes, really. Since I didn’t have a 9X13″ pan, I used a springform pan, something I bought at a garage sale years ago because I thought it was pretty. Who knew it would make a beautiful (and easy to eject) gluten free cake?
2. I invented my own Oaxaca frosting, which boosts ones confidence in cooking, I think. I followed the “simple icing” recipe which came with the “no frills” cake recipe above. I just added a half teaspoon of cinnamon. I also had some leftover chocolate from our last Oaxaca trip and sprinkled it in the chocolatey goodness at the end. YUM!
3. The sideline cupcakes were a perfect idea; I had double the rewards for the same amount of mess! I used your average mini cupcake tin for these.

You'd never even guess this thing doesn't contain the elusive gluten. Notice the canning band cooling rack?
This seems very basic: follow recipe, get good looking (and tasting) things. Well, I’m not good at following recipes, but I managed this one! And I wasn’t stressed out. I could’ve done this recipe without the mixer for sure. In fact, at one point I wasn’t sure my 1.5x recipe was going to fit in my mixer bowl, or rather that it wasn’t going to shoot cocoa at me while i poured in the flour mixture.
By giving this recipe a shot, I’m doing something special for the person I love. I’m honoring people who are no longer with us by taking my time and making something with my hands (and a fancy mixer.) Maybe I’ll give some of these little cupcake treats away to friends, maybe my dear and I will eat them all ourselves, who knows? We had to try them out for dessert tonight, of course.
When I present this fine cake to my lady tomorrow, I’m not sure who’s going to be happier, she or I?
Give this recipe a shot; take a little break from your regular gluten intake. Let me know if you have questions as you attempt it (or another recipe you might have found.) I’m fairly new at all this stuff, but I’m happy to share what I know so far!
P.S. Don’t be alarmed! The pricey xantham gum will last you a number of exciting gluten-less recipes. It’s the one ingredient that converts gluten-free flours into gluten-like results.
Yes you can (part 1)
…make bread.
Ok. So, let me tell you my deepest, darkest secrets: I don’t like to cook. Recipes stress me out. I don’t read gourmand blogs/articles. I don’t like when people use the word “phenomenal” in reference to food, or ever, really. I’m not a “foodie”. I’m still shocked when people refer to me as a food blogger.
That said, I think you can make bread. If I can do it (and not hate it), then so can you. Let’s talk pro’s for a minute:
1. There is no one right way to make bread. It’s pretty hard to mess up bread, and if you do, a toaster and some jam usually fixes the problem.
2. You don’t need any fancy supplies or expensive equipment.
3. The slow-rise (arguably best-tasting) method is actually most convenient for busy people.
4. Kneading and working with dough is an incredibly satisfying, stress-relieving activity after a long day’s work (for nearly all professions.)
5. Making your own bread is cheaper than purchasing bread of the same nutritional value, and without all preservatives and junk in most store-bought bread.
6. You get free air freshener by baking at home!
I haven’t been able to come up with any con’s so far. So, what are you waiting for?
Gather your supplies in advance (so as to not turn this into a whole day affair.) Here’s what you’ll need from the store:
~1lb whole wheat bread flour
~1lb all purpose white flour
two yeast packets
salt
sugar or honey
little bit of butter
some olive oil
And for equipment:
-Do you have loaf pans? Don’t fret if you don’t; nearly all grocery stores have them for about $4 or $5. I recommend the medium size (8.5 x 4.5″) since most recipes will fill two; they look like this:
-Standard mixing bowl
-Wooden spoon
-Clean counter space (for kneading)
-Kitchen towel or tea (if your granny placed one in your care) towel
-basic (cheap) kitchen thermometer
-rack of some sort (I make my own out of canning bands, see below); other good substitutes include a wire, office paper bin, your hanging fruit basket turned upside-down, anything that will allow air to reach underneath your finished loaves while they’re cooling. Be creative; don’t just rush out and buy a bakers rack.
Since you’re busy, we’re going to stretch this process out. By preparing the dough the first night and baking on the second, you’re setting yourself up for success with two manageable tasks each night.
Go gather your supplies. Stay tuned for parts 2 and 3 for the actual recipe and helpful hints as you attempt to follow it.
Time to get fresh with granny
Sending fresh, homemade bread to grandma (doesn’t have to be your own) is good human practice. Kneading is hard on sore, arthritic hands so granny probably doesn’t make bread any longer.
Our elders made us, taught us how to (or NOT to) do things and need to be reminded that we love them. As you learn to bake bread, take some time to chat with old people. Even if they didn’t like making it themselves, as is the case with my Gram (Bertha Burn’em), you’ll learn so much about what life was like when they were growing up. You’ll hear stories that aren’t the ones told and retold after Thanksgiving and Christmas suppers; these special stories linger in sage brains, waiting to be asked the right questions.
Meander through an interview with your (or any) grandma sometime.
Drop the agenda, and don’t call or visit if you have a tight schedule; plan on a few hours. My direct, reporter style questions didn’t produce any jackpots of information surrounding bread and bread making. But as I wandered through and around her responses, we moved into new territory. We wandered out into the marsh behind my Gram’s childhood home, climbed trees and lit cattails on fire with the boys.
What a treat for both of us.
Food in the yard
Since I don’t hunt for birds, I’m changing the adage: Food in the yard is better than a grocery store full of food and food-like items.
Returning from a week trip to the fair Austin-town, weary travelers we were. We were hopeful about hearty, local vegetables surviving a week-long undisturbed refrigeration. Oh, no. A wilty daikon, rotten onion and some questionable radishes. The radishes ended up being ok; all the rest, compost.
Our lunch roster so far: one can of tuna, old radishes. Hmm. Edible, yet not appetizing. I took to the stoop.
I plucked all my little beets from their earthy slumber; many of them ended up being larger than I’d expected (seeing as they’re a root vegetable growing up in a sort of shallow orange box.) A couple were as small as my pinky. I harvested all of them because the fall chill has already descended upon Brooklyn, and the leaves of my beet greens were letting me know it’s time.
I harvested the first shoots of lettuce, the ones that grew tall and sheathed the newer growth at the center. I yanked one green onion and two basil leaves. Beet greens were a bonus in the deal.
The harvest moon happened on October 2. How appropriate that I should harvest my stoop so near this monumental moon. Crunching into the sweet, sanguine heart of my garden made me realize how cool, and convenient it is to have food in the yard.
101 things to do with canning bands
Okay, so there are only two things listed so far; but I can see these little guys coming in quite handy as I move through other first-time cooking and canning adventures or other domesticities. With each new venture, I’m finding my kitchen ill- or partially-equipped (and my wallet still just as tight.)
Wondering how you can do and try some of these things and not go broke in the process?
Get creative! Here’s how:
I stopped by Target to check out retail-land’s end of season sales on canning gear and supplies. I used my cool coupons provided from Canning Across America’s June giveaway. With those coupons, I saved $12 on six cases of jars. The lids, which cannot be reused after each round of canning, come in sets of 12, usually costing anywhere between $3 to $6 (depending where you shop.) Tucked away on the bottom (clearance) shelf, I found boxes of these replacement lids at 74 cents per package! I bought as many boxes as would fit in my canvas bag.
I stashed the actual lids in a ziploc for later use, but the bands, the other part of a two-part canning (mason) jar’s top, have multiplied on my workbench. What to do with all these spare bands (besides hiding them away in a big baggie or recycling them?)!?
101 things to do with canning bands:
1. When I made jam last weekend, I ended up in a bind. The canning rack I purchased did not fit inside my 16-quart stockpot. To keep the jam machine rolling, I improvised.
I placed a bunch of bands so they fit snugly inside the bottom of my pot. The rack keeps the jars elevated in the boiling water bath, and allows the boiling water to completely surround the jars. I’ll explain more of this in my first-time canning post.
2. I realized today, as the bread was undergoing its second rise, that I still don’t have a baker’s rack. Problematic, since the bread really needs to completely cool on some sort of rack. I do have a jillion canning bands, though. Voila!
My loaves are unaware that I didn’t go out and spend $15 on a baker’s rack. This rigged-up deal will not work for small cookies or muffins, since they’ll fall through the holes in the bands. Also, be sure to wash the bands before using them as a rack.
Stay tuned. More nifty tricks to come as I encounter solve-able dilemmas along my path to domesticity…
Gram’s Proud of Me
I’m behind on my canning posts, but there’s no reason to delay you from the sweet taste of homemade success.
Just-made peach jam perfectly gelled across the bread I made last night. I talked for an hour with Gram on the phone; she is proud and exceedingly impressed that I made both of these things myself. (Her nickname is, after all, Bertha Burn’em.)
Dishes done, feet up, Jane Austen in hand. This is going to be a good week.
Sunday brunchtacular
Setting my brunch table made me happy as a clam today for, oh, seven reasons:
- The eclectic contrast of old, cute teacups always delights me (even the same cups, used over and over again)
- I got to use my cute cream and sugar deals. Months after finding these nestled in a BKLYN Flea clothes vendor’s random crap stack at a super price, I acquired at my friend’s stoop sale matching German beer steins, accentuating the same ceramic pearly, orange glaze. Matching is appropriate sometimes; you never know when your beer drinking guests will demand cream and sugar, be prepared.
- Sleeping cats mean good juju for entertaining and life in general (unless your guests are allergic to them)
- My linens remind me of people I love (hand me down-ers and thrift store compatriots)
- The coral reef elk placemat made an appearance, a fine center mat deferring wayward maple syrup drops, overzealous coffee carafe spots and other happy life stains from my tablecloth
- The matching mini tea pot to my favorite tea pot made a perfect and unique maple syrup holder
- I consulted the judgmental homemaking manual to end once and for all my eternal confusions on which side to place the napkin/fork/knife and felt entirely free to improvise on her stringent codes due to small table restrictions.
The combination of all this plus the company of good friends, my gluten free pear pancakes and scrambled, local eggs made this table the only place in the world I wanted to be today.

the good life


























