Mmmmmm. There's nothing like the smell of homemade bread baking. I don't really know why I decided to bake a loaf in the bread maker tonight. Maybe because we are supposed to be getting some wicked weather later tonight: thunder, lightning, wind, rain, hail. And having the smell of homemade bread lingering in the house makes me feel cheerier, and a little more secure as I will be burrowing under the covers.
Baking bread is one of those memories that followed me from childhood. Mmmm...my mom was a great baker. Getting a heel (my favorite piece) just cut from a warm loaf of her bread with real butter and homemade fig preserves slathered on. Yyyyyyy-ummmmm. And don't get me started on her cinammon raisin bread, cinnamon rolls, and hot cross buns. She used to empty the fresh loaves out onto cotton dish towels.
I haven't baked bread the old fashioned way for quite awhile, but it needs doing soon.