November 12 Rain and Dough

This is something I wrote on Thursday, November 12, the night we had a pizza dinner party that turned into a Rip+Mix research session for Alicia’s Food and Sustainability group.

It is dark already, at 4:50 pm, and you can see my socks hanging on the laundry line in the reflection in my window. The sky is fading from a deep cobalt to inky black, turning my window into a mirror.

reflection

The rain drips down the upper part of my window, tilted out to bring in the fresh air. It is not raining hard by my standards, but by Scotland standards it is serious weather.

I have all the windows opened in the house, to chase out the still, stagnant air that reeks of laundry detergent, spices, flaming beans, and sweat and fart (the smell of people living in a closed environment). The rain splatters against the opened windows as the church bells down the hill tolls five. The sounds of the city leak in around the edges of the windows; tires rushing wetly on the pavement, geese honking in the distance, sirens dopplering past.

In the kitchen, the only room in the house with its window closed, dough rises in the warm and humid.

dishes

herb garden

Or, tries to rise. I added twice as much yeast as necessary, after boiling the first batch to death. Shanna said she could hear their little swansongs from all the way on the other side of the Atlantic. The dough turned out smooth and elastic, and springs back from my hands as I knead it.

pizza dough

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November 12 Rain and Dough

2 thoughts on “November 12 Rain and Dough

  1. rachelshadoan says:

    Hahahahahahaha… “living” is perhaps a strong word for the poor little herbs that are just barely limping by. The chives in that picture gave up the ghost a couple of days after it was taken… I’ve never been able to keep chives alive. The mint is slowly passing away… But the parsley made a miraculous comeback!

    That basil, oddly, has been doing fairly well the whole time.

    I suspect I’m just going to have to view herbs as a bi-monthly purchase.

    The pizza dough turned out okay… but it never rose. I got a letter from my grandmother today that had a parenthetical aside of “(Bread needs warm temp to raise)”, in which case I will probably never get bread to work here. *Sigh*

    I’m hoping Cora can help me start a starter in January, so that I can routinely make my own bread. And then maybe it won’t die quite so often and sadly.

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