It was a frenzy of activities yesterday morning was!
Right after the minute I woke up, it was move, move, and move!
With the list of things to do pasted on the kitchen door, I strived to follow the flow chart I drafted the night before. My blurriness was still in the way, though, as I read the first item in the box, toast the black sesame seeds.
Quite groggily, I turned on the stove and placed the non stick wok on it. Then I poured some of the seeds into the wok, enough to cover the flat base. The rest, I poured into a clean, empty jam bottle. While that went on to heat up, I set the kettle to boil. I must have my coffee, I thought.
By now, I could feel the heat of the strong morning sun. The sun shines directly into the kitchen of this little apartment, which makes it like a little hot oven come each morning during the hot season. Hurray for seasonal weather here, even though not distinct! My sweat glands were starting to wake up, I could them! The little beads of salt water slowly forming all over my body.
What's next, I thought, as I rushed over to check the list. On the way, I took my usual red mug and long teaspoon from the dish rack and placed them beside the boiling kettle. I took another glance at the list. Oh, the chicken! And the bread! I took my current favourite 3-1 coffee mix and poured the whole thing into the mug. Kettle was still not done yet. Stirred the sesame seeds a little on the way to the fridge.
From the freezer, I grabbed out the bag of chicken thighs and carton of milk. Suddenly, there weren't much space for me to dump the chicken. In haste I left in the sink as I went over the wok to give the seeds some loving stir, again. The milk I set precariously at the small space at side of the dish rack. The push button on the kettle snapped, indicating the water was boiled.
I turned off the heat on the stove and I removed the hot wok and placed it near the sink. In its place on the stove, I placed a saucepan and poured some cold milk. Then I poured some hot water into my cup, and gave it a quite stir. After that, I took the bottle with muesli and threw in a spoonful of them into the saucepan. It was mixed with some spoonfuls of oats. I could feel the saucepan heating up. I grabbed a bowl and spoon, using the spoon to stir the mixture in the hot saucepan. Oh, too slow, I thought, as I felt a slight lumpiness on the base of the saucepan. I quickly poured some water into the saucepan and gave the whole thorough stir.
Taking a cup, I emptied the contents of the wok into the cup. I removed the saucepan which by held a thicken mixture of oats, muesli and milk and placed the wok again on the still hot stove. I threw in some white sesame seeds, not wanting to waste the heat that it was still generating. Then, I poured out the porridge like mixture of oats into my bowl. I took the bag of chicken and placed them into a tray, and left the tray high on the microwave, out of the way. That would be a good place, I heard myself thinking.
After soaking the saucepan in some water, I brought my bowl of oats porridge and cup of coffee out to the coffee table. Need to clear up to create space for bread making, I thought, as I hastily went in again to bring out the jug of water as well.
By then, I was already drenched in sweat. It was no longer beads of perspiration but more like raindrops of perspiration! Sweat was tingling down from my forehead, my hair was damp, my shirt wet. I went to the cupboard and grabbed a towel and wiped myself. I could feel the sweat beads forming immediately after that! With a quick gesture, I circled the towel around my neck and went back to the kitchen. Time to tackle the bread, and mash, I thought.
I washed the saucepan and collected some water. Removing the wok, I then placed the saucepan on the stove, and started up the heat. After clearing the work and its content appropriately, I took a couple of potatoes and washed them before sliding them gently into the saucepan. I didn't peel the skins off.
Surveying around, I saw that most of the things minor things were done and out of the way. Happily, I set to start making my bread. I brought out the large pot, our only pot actually. Snugly sitting at the side of the sink, I sifted 3 full mugs of all purpose flour into it. It was a long process since the siever was really small. But at long last, the tedious process was done. Adding a super large pinch of salt and a generous amount of yeast, I gave them a rough stir.
The potatoes on the stove were already on a slow boil at that time. I measured some warm milk in a cup and at the very last minute, decided to add in the leftover melted butter in the fridge. Reheating the melted the butter was brutal. I was drenched all the way, standing in front of the boiling potatoes, holding the little cup above the saucepan to capture of the heat. It was not fast but it got done after a while. I poured some milk into the melted butter and then dumped the whole thing into the big pot of flour mixture. The rest of the milk was treated the same way.
Using a wooden ladle, I tried to mix them thoroughly to create a dough. After a while, I knew I had to add more water. Too much flour, or too little liquid. This what you get when you are over ambitious without a recipe. After adding a few spoonfuls more of warm water, the dough was ready to loved.
I dusted the little space of the counter I had cleared with some flour and dropped the dough there. Here goes, I thought. I had specifically wanted to knead longer this time compared to the last time and also increase the proving time for this batch, just to check out the result of the bread. With hand covered with flour, I worked my way with the dough, pulling and folding with slight squishing and squashing. I tried to recall what the River Cottage guy said about kneading bread dough, and attempted to follow his tips. Pull as long as you can, it's ready with it's quite smooth, and cup the dough in a ball by folding underneath in circles, some things along those lines.
I think I spent about ten minutes kneading, the longest I had knead before. My right forearm was quite sore actually, sign of my general lack of exercise. But I was quite pleased with the outcome. The dough balled up quite nicely, not as smooth as I thought it should and could be, but almost there. I dabbed oil all round the dough ball and placed it lovingly into the pot again. With clean hands, I took covered the pot and brought my little baby to the little balcony outside, super hot little balcony, where the sun was shining right at it. Finally, a real need for the heat!
By then the potatoes were already done. The stick I used to prick them went in right through without much effort. I took them out into a bowl to cool down. I left the hot water in the saucepan. From the fridge, I took out the garlics and red onions. Brought those, a knife and a bowl out and in front of the tv, while waiting for the dough to rise, I watched Kyle XY while I had my breakfast, skinned off the potatoes, peeled the garlics and onions, and felt my heartbeat slowing down and sweating easing off after almost 2 hours toiling in the kitchen.
What a frenzied morning!
