The Winter Sports

 

Sorry for the not-so-great image quality, but the window I shot this photo from is really filthy. And it's been too Freezing to clean it. Still. You get the gist. We got a few inches of snow today (what the Mainers call a dusting), and the birds are hard at it. And yes. That is the rear end of a very groundhog-like squirrel, noshing away on the ground seed. It's ok. We can share. Bird seed is part of our winter entertainment budget!

On the indoor sports front, though, I decided to test a hypothesis I had on bread baking. I couldn't quite do a controlled experiment, but it was close. Also, I did the math on how much it costs to make bread, minus my labor. Using King Arthur AP bread flour, and grocery store yeast, it costs me about $1.50 (including the electricity for the stove) to make a loaf of rustic bread.

So. This experiment started with an elongated ceramic bread cloche that I got years ago (and gave to my daughters as well). I felt like I wasn't getting the same quality of crusty bread from it that I got from my cast iron dutch oven. Was it true? If so, why? There are 2 possible reasons.

1. The ceramic cloche has different heat holding capacity than the cast iron.

2. The shape (round vs. oblong) changes the way the bread cooks.

Oops. And there is a third possibility. With the cloche, I usually use a piece of parchment to transfer the dough to the hot cloche. Was Not using a flour dusted towel causing a difference?

I realize that this little experiment may not fascinate you all, so feel free to ignore the rest of this if it makes you want to curl up and go to sleep!

Onward. In the following images I'll show you what I did. I'll finish this post with my conclusions. I know. The suspense is killing us all. 

 

Above is the freshly mixed dough. . .made as identically as I could.

To the left is the dough rising, again keeping conditions as identical as possible. 

 

 

After the rises (see recipe at the bottom), I formed the loaves and let them rise again. Note that one is oblong, the other a boule.

After cooking to the left. Be still my heart.

 

And the real test, cutting into the loaves. I should be much fatter than I am. . . 

But here are the results

1. The crust on the boule was a little thicker and tougher than on the loaf. Not a bad thing, but enough to notice.

2. The interiors of the two loaves were indistinguishable from one another. They had the same mouth feel, the same knife resistance, and the same number of larger and smaller holes

3. The taste was also the same for both the boule and the loaf.

So. My hypothesis that either the shape of the loaf (vs boule) or the heat holding capacity of the two covered vessels was dead wrong. I'm certain (with a p(F) value of .05) that the difference I perceived between bread from the cloche vs. the dutch oven is due to the use of parchment paper rather than using a heavily floured cloth for the final rise is the culprit. Science. Works. 

Drop the mike.

And the Orchestra Played On. . .

 

A small and perplexing miracle

A sad quote (referencing the sinking of the Titanic, if you don't recognize it), accompanied by a hopeful image. 

I have no idea how an impatiens seed found it's way into my snake plant (the impatiens was outside, the snake plant inside), but it did. I saw it germinate a couple of months ago, and fortunately recognized it and let it grow. A friend of mine once said she loved volunteer plants so much. She would mimic raising her hand in that anxious way that grade schoolers do, and say "I want to be a sunflower!" or "I want to be an impatiens!". Very silly. And that's what I need in these not so silly days of despair. Of lies and misrepresentations. Of "J9 hostages", and condemnation of an honorable and incredibly productive administration. And all of these lies and misrepresentations met with cheers and clapping. From the American people. What have we done?

French Mountain again

 

 Still. This minor and perplexing miracle is a small thing to hold on to. Bright faces to cheer the subzero temperatures. Even Jasper has reservations about walking when it's -5F.

Fear not. I will not cheat you of his lovely face. Before the serious cold, we once again visited French Mountain. Cleats required for me, but Jasper does just fine skirting the ice flows. Now the cold is a bigger worry, and we'll try his booties this afternoon. He will not be a fan, I know, but his feet may be.

A face I never tire of

There is a lot of winter work to do, on the trails and the house. I've decided to start practicing my violin again. Don't hold me to it. Or maybe do hold me to it. I have made this decision before and had other things intervene. I still have this work-before-play obsession that keeps me from doing things I really want to do, but then I usually want to do the work, too. Pleasant tasks. But tasks nonetheless.

Indoor garden

I'll close with an image of my south window (note the newly repotted Boston Fern. . .I need to repot the larger one too, but it is grim work), and a short video of one of the Winter Streams on the Messalonskee Stream Trail. (click on the link below the image. . .)

 

 

 

Stream to Stream in Winter

Tis the Season. . .

 

'Tis the season for knitting, books, and Very chilly hikes. I just finished these socks for John, and then found out that I had changed the pattern on the second sock, which made it too small, so it's frogging and re-knitting for me. Ack. Still. These will be warm and soft and not-too-bulky for years to come, so they're worth the effort.

And frustration is the new joy, right? Ha.

The weather has been strange. Very cold (though not into negative numbers yet), and very dry. We still have patches of snow, but nothing fresh, and any liquid is solidly frozen. We saw folks skating on Johnson Pond at Colby College yesterday. It made John and I think about buying some ice skates!

Ice Needles have formed all along the wooded trails, mostly in the duff. They crunch outrageously underfoot. This is not a great image, but it gives you an idea. Jasper is largely unfazed by the cold weather, but I do check the temperature of his feet periodically when we're out for more than 45 minutes or so.

I'll close with an image from the top of Mt. Phillip. It's hard to see, but the ice on the lake is coalescing into a whole from plates. Another wonder of physics whose cause eludes me. Need to seriously consider those skates. . .