My bread dough rises like the sun
Nothing fosters togetherness more than breaking bread . . . unless it is serving your own baked bread! Here is a delightful and easy recipe which will score points and ANYONE can do this with 2 pantry items and a whisk!
Simple Simple Simple
1 twelve ounce can/bottle of light beer
3 cups of heart healthy Bisquick
WHAT TO DO
Combine in bowl using a whisk,
pour into greased loaf pan,
and bake for approx 45 minutes at 375.
TRY to be patient
and let cool before serving!
Note: I brushed the top with a little melted butter, but this is not necessary!
I love bread! Oh, not the squishy stuff in an isle in the grocery, sold in colorful plastic bags with a long list of chemicals contained inside. No, I love bread! The stuff made from flour, water, leavening, and other chosen ingredients. The stuff many hands had a role in planting the wheat, mixing the ingredients with bare hands, pressing, and pounding the dough. Waiting, rising, pressing on. Messy, time-consuming, requires patience and focus. Ah, and when it’s baking the whole house smells of love!
Love? Yes love. You see, it’s pretty basic stuff. It’s been around for thousands of years. It isn’t glamorous. There isn’t any big award show with celebrities in gowns for best bread maker. I can’t think of any cooking show for how to make it. I can’t recall a single infomercial promising you’ll swoon over their bread and for only 6 easy payments of 29.99. But bread = life. It’s basic. We need it. It’s life-giving. There are now many easy ways to provide it without taking from our day and without getting our hands dirty and likely few would complain, but when someone takes the time and effort to meet my basic needs in a better way, it means they love me. They love me so much that it doesn’t matter to them if bells ring or alarms sound, nor even if I actually stop and notice their efforts. Just caring for me in that special way is all they seek to do. They are not reciprocating. They are loving me. They are being Jesus to me. It’s what He did.
Jesus broke bread and served the twelve. He was and is the broken bread . . . His life sold by one of His friends. He fed them and us out of His great love. It wasn’t payback. We didn’t deserve it. Everyday of my life in more ways then I can count and far more ways then I notice, He provides me with the bread I need to go on. I take it. I eat it. All too often, I don’t think about it anymore than my family did as I baked bread this afternoon. But something happened to me as I baked it. The aroma of that bread in the oven filled me with wonder. I was reminded of bread of another sort . . . living bread. I was thankful.
Okay, the first quote made me smile because I made 3 loaves of bread today and not one with any yeast. Baking powder, baking soda, buttermilk . . . other yummy things. I made a white bread, a cheddar cheese bread and a cinnamon bread. I’m plotting a new recipe for Pimento Cheese Bread which I’ll play about with perhaps next weekend. Just now my house smells amazing, the breads for this week are finished and I’m thinking of another kind of bread . . .