Kaiser Rolls

Kaiser.  Makes me think of this because I show Iron Jawed Angels to my class every quarter.  Lame?  Yes.  Lamer than having a Selena Gomez song stuck in your head?  No.  And unfortunately I qualify for both categories.  Dude, this song is by "Selena Gomez & the Scene."  Who is the Scene?  And what scene is attaching itself to Selena Gomez?  Maybe this one:

aka skinny girls with braces and long hair.  Maybe it's the random band that appears behind her at times in the most boring music vid ever.

Anyway, back to Kaisers.  And rolls.  Not kids and "rock and rolls."  Ha.  I'm on a roll with being horrifically dorky today.  Blame it on the i-i-i-i-i-insomnia.

So, yesterday, I made a quarter of a batch of pate fermente.  [See my entry on french bread if you're interested in the particulars of pate fermente.  I figured I didn't need to take pictures.  Also, it's just more pictures.  Really, there's nothing special about it.]  Today, I woke up way too early, went to a meeting way too early, and came home and took the pate out of the fridge.  Ta-da!

It's so little!  I was kneading this yesterday and was like, it's nothing.  So, I hope this doesn't end up a semi-wasted attempt like the english muffins -- you know, a lot of work for a little result.  Kind of like grad school.  Except bread.  And materiality.

Pate all cut up.

And so these sit for an hour.  I go to the library and failingly attempt to get an oil change [the wait was an hour people -- on a Friday at 3pm when it's raining -- why is beyond me] only to come back and start typing this entry.  And that's where we are now.  It feels so late.  That's what happens when you get up at 8:30, I guess.  People who work work, don't make fun of me.

Oh, I didn't take a picture after an hour.  Sorries, my babies.  To console you, here is flour + salt + yeast =

I sit transfixed by a hole in your t-shirt.

And you sit transfixed by the addition of the pate + egg + oil + water + molasses =

That is you transfixed.  I doubt on the blog formatted they will appear next to each other.  So you'll just have to imagine.  Or you can sit transfixed by the picture [either one -- the boys both look creepy].

Vaguely conglomerated:

This is kneaded for ten minutes.  I have a possibly grotesque picture of the kneaded stuff.  Flash in the kitchen is horrible, but no flash is also horrible.  These are the quandaries I face as I bake bread.  Alas!  Alas!

Sorry about that.  I'm like super tired right now.  Earlier, I couldn't spell grotesque, people.  It's gotten that bad.  I think it's nap time.  But yesterday nap time was horrible.  I mean, like the kind where you just want to keep sleeping.  But look at me now, blabbing on and it's a blog.  Well, my CD just ended -- that's a sign.

Nap!  Wake up!  Coffee!  Bread!  SOML!

I can't believe I haven't made more rap jokes about dough.  I thought of one the other day, but now I can't think of what song it is.  The only song that comes to mind is the "I got money, and you know it, take it out your pocket and show it" song.  Which doesn't talk about dough.

It looks like a gathering of Mystics.  Get it, Jen!

But, it's not.  It's just blobs of dough waiting to be turned into rolls.  Which was weird.  The rolls are like knots.  I tried to take pictures of me making them, but it didn't really work.  Oily, floury hands + camera = no goods.

So here's the completed picture!  The little knots.  PS.  OMG.  So, I used the knot method, but Peter also suggested using a KAISER ROLL CUTTER.  WHAT.  YOU CAN BUY A TOOL JUST TO MAKE KAISER ROLLS.  Wow.  This one is ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS.  People.  Why.  You can use knots.  If any home baker has this, why.  Unless you run a kaiser roll baking service under the table.  In which case, clue me in.  I would totally deliver kaiser rolls in duffel bags.  Be a kaiser roll runner.  Smuggle them across various borders.

So, these sit for forty-five minutes and then get turned over.  So, I will attempt to get some work done like the good person I know I can be <3!

After forty-five:

And then they get turned over.  It's like tanning.  Except not.

Covered in plastic wrap.  Sit for half an hour like this.  And THEN.

Sorry, no oven shots.  I'm a FAILURE at picture-taking today.  I'm undergoing a lot of trouble with switching my phone to another phone because my texting is screwing up.  Sigh.  Knock on wood I just fixed it though.  While the rolls are cookin', the stew is brewin', the lights are shinin', the hearts are DYING.

Everybody let go, we can make a dance floor, just like a circus.  Also, my new ringtone is called "circus."  It's not the Britney version, though.  Problematically, my alarm ringtone is "island."

Love is just a secondhand emotion.  So, kaiser rolls aren't brown, but they're okay.  Idk -- maybe I should leave them in longer, but I get anxious about them burning.

Check out that crumb.  Hot.

Speaking of hot, I'm going to watch a movie feat. Cillian Murphy.

See you cats on the flip side.  <3