(Cue music: AC/DC’s Highway to Hell)
(Strained whisper) ‘You idiot, that’s the wrong song…how many times did we practice this…’
(Record scratch)
(Cue music: AC/DC’s Back in Black)
That’s right, ladies and gentlebreadheads, I’m back! After a month long hiatus spent in the torturous chambers of Work and Hell, I have returned with prodigious grandeur to my intellectual steam room, as it were: the Land of the Bread! (Not to be confused with the land of the dead) (Not to be confused with a graveyard) (Not to be confused with a retirement home) (Not to be confused with the White House).
Just to be clear, I am aware of how pretentious these kinds of sentences sound.
Let’s try this again.
(Record scratch)
Dearest breadheads, we’re back! How I missed you! Milk and honey for everyone! Recently, I’ve been plagued with requests to focus on more bread-related topics specifically, rather than tangentially discussing societal topics, as is generally the norm around these parts. I can’t say it doesn’t hurt that you breadheads don’t want to examine philosophy with me, but what gives? I have to do what you say! Money talks, after all. And, trust me, bread-writing is a high-stakes business. A rough-neighbourhood-kind of business. A car-doors-locked-at-the-intersections-kind of business. Like, literally, I get my shoes shined by venture capitalists, who start sweating when they hear the kind of risk I assess on a daily basis. Then they hide under their desks and cradle their cardboard briefcases. Turns out writing jokes is harder than seed round funding.
Speaking of seed round funding, if there are any venture capitalists reading this, preferably as representatives of some faceless, predatory hedge fund, hit me up. I’ve got a super savvy business idea that involves selling bread to people for money.
Oh dear. I’m doing it again, aren’t I?
(Record scratch)
Okay, no more digressing, and no more pretensions! Let’s get on with the topic of today’s article: How To Make Bread. Today, I’m going to be walking you through how to cook a delicious loaf of homemade, heart-warming, golden-brown bread. And I promise I will not digress or satirize or make anything weird in any way. That being said, let’s get ahead with the bread!
Step 1: Take a bowl of water. Add yeast; dissolve half a tablespoon of warm water. Ensure that bubbles form on the surface. Whisk sugar, salt, and a couple cups of flour. Stir oil, flour, and watch your dough form.
Step 2: Knead the dough for up to 15 minutes. Add oil to a bowl, cover, and leave in a warm place when possible. Wait for around 2 hours for the dough to rise.
Step 3: Ambush Nazis on sight. Prisoners must not be taken. The most effective way of catching Nazi guards is on bicycle, preferably with a double-barreled shotgun in one hand, a cold, bitter Lager beer in the other, and the third hand clutching the handles of the bicycle. Sing Allied national anthem of your choice for supplementary psychological warfare. Be VERY WARY that target Nazi officer is not an Allied officer in disguise. An easy way to check this is to ask whether they have seen the movie ‘Inglorious Basterds’. If it is an ally, they will say no. If it is a Nazi, they will say nein. Our undercover allies have not yet learned German and as such are currently masquerading as pseudo-mute soldiers only capable of saying the word ‘no’. Once you have successfully felled the Nazi, remember to bring back the body to your home as a trophy of your success. You may use the cadaver as you please, but remember to treat it with respect.
Step 4: Punch dough down, shape into loaf, place into loaf pans. Rise for 2 hours.
Step 5: Bake at 350 degrees Celsius for half an hour.
Step 6: Enjoy your bread as you are haunted by ghosts of Nazis past.
(Cue music: AC/DC’s Highway to Hell)
Half-baked Bread Heads 