Friday, March 23, 2007

Pink-Eye & Foolish for Poolish

So, this morning, I wake up with a crusty eye and when I look in the mirror, I notice that it is a bit pink. As the day progressed, it felt like there was dust in my eye and in the later afternoon and (now) evening, it is beginning to itch. I put some pink-eye drops in it and I hope that will do the trick. What childhood malady is next for this middle-aged mom? Lice? Stay tuned.

Today was a stay-at-home day for this stay-at-home mom. I dropped Jack off at school and came directly home instead of going to the Y for my almost daily morning work-out. I felt like going back to bed, but that seemed too decadent. Instead, I decided to make bread and split-pea soup and clean up the house in case someone wanted to look at it this weekend. (Which they won't because the market is VERY slow right now, but at least the house really is nice and clean. And, that makes your Bloomingtongirl happy.) I continue to be surprised at how much I like the domestic life. Several of my friends are even more surprised than I. I never thought I would be content without a career but I am happier doing this than anything I have ever done. Who knew?

Today, I made the same bread that made the other day, but I let the Poolish sit for two and a half hours rather than the thirty minutes I allowed the first time I made it. Poolish is the French name for what we call a "sponge" here in the good old US of A. Letting it ferment for a longer period of time is supposed to develop more flavor but today's bread was not nearly as flavorful as the other day's. It was still good, but a bit disappointing. A friend to whom I gave a loaf described it as having a "subtle" taste. I responded that I thought that "subtle" was a handy word for BLAND. I always know that what I have prepared for dinner is under flavored when my husband describes it as "subtle". I shall make another batch of bread tomorrow, paying special attention to how I make and handle the Poolish so as to maximize flavor. I am keenly interested in this Poolish thing. Foolish for Poolish, one could say.

This is a picture of Poolish. It isn't mine, I have to admit...I stole this from someone else's website. But my Poolish looks very much like this one. Tomorrow I shall photograph all steps of my Poolish and dough making because I know that BloomingtonGirl readers want to know ALL.

I have nothing else remotely interesting on which to opine this evening, my friends. I am going to go and scrub my face and brush my fangs and go to bed and read. First, I shall finish the author's postscript from Clarissa and then I shall start a new book. The Voyage of the Narwhal has been recommended to me by the very same sage who recommended Clarissa. I might start that even though I don't like the work Narwhal. I don't know why, but it just sounds wrong.

3 comments:

Perk said...

I hope that somewhere there is a drink called a Narwhal. If there isn't we should make one up. Ideas?

"I'd like a Narwhal please;shaken, not stirred."

"Dick makes a mean Narwhal."

BloomingtonGirl said...

The Narwhal sounds to me like it should be a man's drink. Perhaps the official drink of HerkFest. Ergo, it must be strong, bracing and elegant in a manly way. Yet, it must have a subtle sense of humor. The selection of ingredients is important but the choice of drinking vessel, equally so.

Let's ponder this new masterpiece.

Anonymous said...

You didn't tell them that your friend asserted that _she_ didn't use "subtle" to mean "bland"!