This has been a horrible week here in Boston. Really just the worst. I think The Onion got it right with this article. Yesterday we were asked to stay inside as a manhunt went on. When I’m faced with fear and uncertainty, I find handwork to be a really useful way to ground and focus all that frantic energy. So I decided to bake some bread.

Bread1I love kneading dough, the repetitive hands-on motion is so therapeutic.

Bread2I got the recipe out of my copy of The Laurel’s Kitchen Bread Book. It is a nice book for baking wholesome breads and the artwork is really lovely.

Bread3Malcolm wanted to help. He is so curious about cooking lately. Sometimes he pretends to cook and eat out of his beach pail.

Bread4I think it was my mother who told me once that when you have kneaded your dough enough, it should feel like a newborn baby. She’s right, it has this softness and weight that is so much like a newborn.

Bread5And then you tuck it away in its bowl and wait.

Bread6I think the waiting makes it so much more special when the bread finally goes into the oven and the wonderful smell fills the house. Is there anything more cozy and homey than that smell? It’s one of the most comforting smells I know.

Bread7It’s so hard to wait for the bread to cool. I usually last about 5 minutes before slicing into it. We spread plenty of butter on it. The loaf is usually half gone before you even realize what was happening.

Bread8This was Malcolm’s first taste of fresh-from-the-oven homemade bread. He had three slices.

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