Curmudgeonly Cooking: Bread II: Workspace

Any project of merit requires a good workspace. For example; your success fixing a car will be related to your garage (though I have empirically demonstrated that a good garage is necessary but not sufficient to produce a repaired tractor).

You cannot bake a good bread without a good workspace. Don’t try.

Here’s what you do. Clean off the kitchen table. All of it. No bullshit. Don’t leave the pile of bills that always resides on on end. Don’t leave the kid’s Legos and undone homework in your way. Remove the doily that inexplicably sits in the center and take the opportunity to dispose of the ridiculous scented candle that sits on the doily. (Toss it in the trash and blame the cat.)

Now make some bacon. Why? Because it’s bacon. Do you need a reason to enjoy bacon? If so, why are you reading this blog?

When in doubt, make bacon.

There is a second purpose to this exercise (though bacon alone should be sufficient). This activity will familiarize the average male with the location and functioning of the oven. That’s the metal box that makes food and which is not the microwave.

Sit at your clean table eating bacon and ponder the following:

1.What utensils did I use to make this bacon?
2.What is the condition of the kitchen?

Lets address #1 first. If you used the microwave for the bacon you cannot be saved. Sorry but you’re doomed. For the rest of us, bacon requires a pan, a fork, and a plate. If you used more than one pan for the bacon you’re the kind of dipshit that’ll trash the whole kitchen to make a loaf of bread. You’re inefficient and stupid. Either resolve to make bread in the most efficient manner possible or take up another hobby which won’t annoy other members of the household; possibly interpretive dance or politics. If you’re eating the bacon out of the pan…you’re going to be a huge success.

Now lets’ address #2. Is the kitchen clean and sparkling?

Really? It is? Wow! Did you do that? I didn’t think so! Did your wife do it? Ah ha! Does she maintain the kitchen in a pristine and spotless condition? If so, it’s time to rethink your objectives. Drive to the nearest jewelry store and pick up a nice diamond necklace. Then set it down and pick up one that costs 10% more. Repeat. Do it again you cheap bastard! Now buy it and deliver it with a smile for a clean kitchen is akin to God. Solemnly promise that you’ll stay out of her clean and beautiful kitchen. Then go out and buy a deer camp, fishing hut, or RV. Do your cooking there.

Of course the previous paragraph didn’t apply to your house did it? Your kitchen is heaped with unwashed forks and the trash bin is overflowing. Don’t lie to me; I know the truth. Everyone’s kitchen is trashed. Aren’t you glad you’ve saved the cost of a diamond?

After you’ve finished your bacon it’s time to begin the first task. Clean the kitchen.

Clean everything. Don’t pull bullshit like moving the crap from one area to the next. Look in the oven. Studies show that 8% of all ovens have dirty dishes in them. Modern science cannot explain this. Clean the stove top. You won’t be needing the stove top but it needs to be cleaned anyway. You slob! Then wash the dishes, including the silverware and the yucky pots that have been “soaking” for far too long. Suck it up and wash that undefined object you use to scoop spaghetti. Just do it all.

You’ve not merely cleaned the kitchen; you’ve “detailed” it.

This will take 1,483% longer than you expect. When you’re done you’ll be in no mood for cooking. No worries. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Luckily you’ll have already eaten bacon.

Your final step is to announce loudly to everyone in the building (even if it’s just the dog) that the kitchen is clean and you’re going to bake bread tomorrow and the place had better be just as clean tomorrow or there will be hell to pay. Like a declaration of war, this announcement is legally required as part of the male bread baking process.

Then, because you will be ignored, set up a deer cam to record the identity of the perpetrator when the kitchen gets trashed overnight.

On to part III.