Summer…the best of what might be. But also, heat.

It is finally here.  The week I have dreaded since I dreamed up this little project in the cold of a (California) February.  This is the week I bake bread in a 500-degree oven while it is triple digits outside.  I didn’t know when this week would arrive, but I knew it would.  We live in a lovely area, but for a few weeks a year, our temperatures are ridiculous.  For the record, I don’t love anything above 94.  93 and below and I can tell myself that it is a warm summer day, but it is low 90s, meaning the majority of the days is in the 80s.  Totally liveable.  Above 94, and you are approaching lame, but not yet ridiculous.  But then, there are those few days and weeks sprinkled through the summer season when it is above 100, and sometimes well above.  We have recorded temperatures above 110.  Not cute.  It is the proverbial dry heat people talk about, which is great, I guess, but the earth bakes and it never gets cool and you sometimes open your door and think you have stepped into an oven.  It can take your breath away.  The best thing I can say about this temperature is at least it is happening in July.  When we get a heat wave in October when Pinterest is all pumpkin spiced life and jeans and sweaters and football, I get seriously cranky.

Alas (but not really), this is not a weather blog, so I guess I better tell you about the bread baking.  I wasn’t sure how I would do the baking with the temperatures outside, but as it turns out, you just turn on your oven and steel yourself.  Your husband makes a pitcher of his specialty, and you set out a great spread of cheeses and other goodies, and you get to baking and snacking on a Friday night.  Maybe you are lucky and your neighbor stops by and you chat the time away.

This week I also played a little fast and loose with the structure of my recipes.  Maybe it was the midweek 4th of July celebration (check out the hamburger buns I posted on Instagram, and recipe here to celebrate!), or maybe it was just the heat, but I was in the mood to riff a bit on a recipe and not align too closely to standard practices.  This week, I took the wild yeast that I keep feeding daily and decided to try my tried and true (but not posted yet) no-knead sourdough bread with it.  I hadn’t used this starter yet with that recipe, so it felt like the opportune time.  But that felt too tame.  I decided I wanted to up the proportion of whole wheat flour in it, which made me think I needed to the up the proportion of water, as the whole wheat I find takes a bit more water.  Suddenly, I had created something similar to a ciabatta with its higher hydration, but in a boule-ish, not classic slipper shape, but also, part wholewheat sourdough.  Quite the mash-up.   However, the crust is thick, the chew is solid, and the sour taste is well developed.  My practice loaf tasted great last night with a thick smear or butter (natch) but also topped with some fresh milky ricotta and bruschetta.  This morning, sliced thin and toasted and topped with some soft scrambled eggs and freshly snipped chives was an entirely wonderful start to the day.

The giveaway this week will be a middle of the dash out to pick up my son from church camp.  In the height of the afternoon heat, I plan to plop the bread in the hands of one of the great volunteers who have stayed with a bunch of middle school boys all week long.  In the cabin with them.  I think there are four to six 13-year-old boys in one cabin.  With an adult.  Bless this hearty soul who volunteered to shepherd wild boys of (no doubt) dubious hygiene toward a closer relationship with God.  This slightly wild, a little outside the lines recipe, with equal parts chewy crust and tangy sour tastes seems like the perfect bread for a person of such strong character.  Hopefully, the smell of the bread will erase any other odiferous memories of the past week.

I am so thankful for people who volunteer to spend time with my children.  Not because they are not great kids, they absolutely are.  But, I love getting to see how other people inspire and impact my kids in a way I can’t as their parent.  I am nearly giddy at the thought of picking up my son this afternoon and learning what he has done this past week and hearing about the fun and the growth that has taken place on his way to becoming who he is supposed to be.  I know this is all made possible by people who choose to invest their time in the younger generation, pouring into them.  I can’t wait to thank them…with bread of course!