Bready

This is what remained this morning of a Bourke Street Bakery olive oil loaf picked up yesterday on a quick trip back to Sydney. 

That's a couple of kilos of flour and some fresh yeast, picked up at the same time.

I've been going on about wanting to do it since I first moved out of home into my first share house. I've always held baking my own bread up as a lofty ideal, something associated with good honest nurturing and home-making. And aside from a few foccacias and the occasional pizza base, I've never quite managed to get there. 

The gift of this book a while ago has been the biggest inspiration towards the bread-making goal, and now that I can't pop into the Bourke Street Bakery for an olive oil loaf whenever I please, it's time I finally got on with it. That yeast has a two-week fridge 'life'. Clock's ticking...

 And it's on the list, so I guess I have to now.