Between George and I, we have been baking the no-knead bread non-stop the last couple weeks. It is starting to be a problem. Oh, I could sense the problem coming on almost at the beginning. The lead weight feeling in my gut. The bubbling and gurgling of my insides. The, um, lack of toilet time (how do I put that delicately? My grandma wouldn't believe I'd even mentioned it!). The more bread I ate, the more bread I wanted. Make that, the more bread I eat, the more bread I want because up until last night I've still been eating it. There is something about wheat that's addicting, especially when you shouldn't eat it, I think. But now it's time to stop. Last night, after the triple whammy of homemade pizza (triple whammy of wheat flour, nightshade vegetable tomato sauce and greasy cheese), both Eli and I laid around moaning and groaning. And I've been up since 3 a.m. feeling the pain. It's time to stop. We can't make the bread anymore. It has been lovel...
simple living at home