I've been making an effort to eat less junk and more fruits and vegetables lately. That means I spend a large portion of my days fantasizing about food. Lately it's been bread. Hot, crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside with golden butter melting all over it. It became too much for me yesterday, so I broke down and bought a bread machine.
My inner Martha has always resisted bread machines, mostly because it seems like cheating. And it seems so wrong that an appliance can make bread that tastes as good as any granny can make.
On the other hand, I don't like kneading dough for ten minutes, I hate the mess it all makes, and I have a full time job
and a two year old, so it isn't as though I have time to bake. Plus, I really want to come home, open the door, and have the smell of baking bread waft out and lure me into the kitchen. Without the mess.
