Show me your Joy!

I read "Born to Run" by Christopher McDougall over and over when it first came out.  Why is that so odd?  At that point in my life, I had never run more than one mile - and that was only unwillingly, in middle school gym class.  The brilliance of McDougall is that, in spite of my own pitiful physical capabilities, I found myself wanting to run an ultra-marathon.  (A feeling which quickly dissipated when I put my shoes on and hit the track.  I run with friends three times a week, now, but I doubt I'll ever tackle a marathon, not to mention an ultra!)

But when you read a book ... I climbed Everest with Jon Krakauer. I ran an ultra with Christopher McDougall. 

Now, it doesn't have to be a sport or a strenuous thing, but the prompt for this week is to write about something you do that makes you happy, something that brings you joy in your life, and try (just try, don't stress about it) to pull us into your experience and let us feel like we're right there with you.

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My response:

It starts so simply.  One cup of milk, cold from the fridge, in the bottom of a glass bowl.  I grab the handle on the microwave and slip the bowl inside, snapping the door closed and tapping the "Add One Minute" button.  It hums to life.

Then the yeast.  I spent years baking breads that didn't rise until I spoke with an old grandma in Germany.  She told me I had to be kind to my yeast.  Warm it up, feed it, make it happy.  So I do.  I let the tap water run over my fingers into the sink, waiting until that perfect temperature.  When it's just right, I fill the cup, then stir a small spoon of honey into the water.  Not a lot, just enough, and then I suck the rest of the honey from the spoon.  I can almost taste the bread, even though it's still just an idea in my mind.  I measure out the yeast, stirring it into the water.

By now, the milk is hot, and the aroma washes over me as I open the microwave.  I pull open the bottom cupboard and dig through the containers.  Three tablespoons of white sugar join the milk, then two tablespoons of oil, and one teaspoon salt.  It's supposed to be one and a half teaspoons of salt, but after watching the sugar dissolve into the milk, the thought of salt makes me frown.  One cup of flour is just enough to start the mixture into becoming a dough, and now the milk is cooled down enough for the yeast.  I usually manage to get to this point without the yeast overflowing, but on some days, when my kids are helping, I don't get there in time, and the warm foam slides down the sides of the cup and gathers on the counter.

You might expect me to crack an egg or throw some potato flakes in.  If I'm making my great-grandma's rolls, I surely would.  But this recipe is special because it's my dad's.  He can't eat eggs, so he figured out a dough recipe that doesn't use them.  It's divine.  And it's my dad's, so it's special.

Now that the yeast is happy, the smell of it fills the kitchen.  I add flour to the mixture.  Sunlight streams in my kitchen window, through the yellow curtain.  I work the warm dough in my palms, adding flour until it's just right - not too dry like I did when I started making breads.

Inevitably, my mind slips back to my grandma, and my great-grandma.  They were the kind of women who didn't cook with recipes.  They did it intuitively, by feel.  I wonder if they'd be proud of me, or if they'd offer a gentle correction.  Probably both. 

I roll the dough together and let it rise.

When I start rolling, I always begin to doubt myself.  Is it too sticky?  Am I adding too much flour?  How big will it get?  Is it too thick?  But in the end, it turns out well, and I'm happy with it.

(Okay, this is where I noticed my attention is wandering.  My two little ones are playing behind me, and I've got to pick up my oldest from school.  Because this is a stretching exercise, and it's not supposed to be a chore, I'm going to stop now.  Even if my cinnamon rolls aren't finished yet.  Believe me, I did finish them, and they're wonderful.  But if you've read this far, I think you'll agree with me that this wasn't the most exciting topic, and I didn't do the best job of making it interesting.)