Momma Told Me: bread recipe

8 Ingredient Garlic Bread Base Recipe, For Bread Machines

Momma Told Me: I use shortcuts, so I can spend more time with you, not because I love my family any less.

Growing up, we seemed to have every modern kitchen appliance and convenience. No, we weren't rich, my father simply had an obsession with lifestyle gizmos and gadgets. His prized two were the monstrosity of an electric ice cream maker, and the barrel sized, round loaf, bread maker. I still remember the trip to buy that bread machine. I was 7, and I vividly recall walking my Polly Pocket across hundreds of fancy metal machines, all conveniently at eye level. There were speakers, brand new cassette players, and microwaves that could cook a tray from frozen in minutes.

I must have passed out somewhere between the 10th salesman's pitch and the arrival home, because I awoke some time later to the smell of yeast rising and pungent garlic. There was a very loud whirring noise and the 'ba-bang' of the bread maker rocking back and forth on the counter. It must have been somewhere in one of it's second knead cycles. The following morning I awoke to my parents, who appeared more excited than anyone should ever be over a loaf of bread, carefully slicing the end off with breath held.

The smell of baking bread soon became a weekend staple in our household as every single recipe in the included recipe book was experimented with and made. Personally, I liked the fresh rye the best but, there was nothing quite like a fresh, warm, loaf lightly buttered in the morning. One particularly adventurous day Momma even managed to concoct a cinnamon raisin loaf she later dipped in egg and turned into the most delicious French Toast I have ever had, to this day.

It's funny to think that all of these warm fuzzy memories come from a loud, large clunky appliance in which the only love involved were paid installments and carefully measured ingredients. When these fancy appliances weren't involved Momma was known to cook from scratch, so I often harbored a bit of resentment towards this machine that seemed to do little more than make our bread a day fresher than store-bought. But that smell; oh that smell of that old beloved bread-maker, baking into the wee hours of the morning; that's the stuff my childhood memories were made of.

So, naturally, when I moved into my own home one of the first appliances on my list was a bread maker, for nostalgia's sake. And that's precisely what it remained for these past several years- an icon of nostalgia, sitting in it's box, on a shelf. I've made bread at least a dozen times since the device came into our home- but most often the 'quick way' with mixes or quick rising bases that aren't pretty but pack the flavor in. I'll admit, I was skeptical, and a bit terrified the process might be entirely more complicated than it looked. My parents had always just dumped ingredients in and 7 hours later out popped a perfect loaf of bread!

So, there I was last week, staring the dusty unopened appliance down, as I reached for a stray chocolate chip that had rolled off my baking station and onto the floor. For a moment neither of us said anything. I looked at it, it looked at me; I could feel it judging- this bread maker could see all those happy mornings spent crowded around the family maker, inhaling those glorious scents. And then I was there, in my parent's kitchen, taking a bite of that freshly carved slice. It was magic. And all of a sudden I had a craving for bread...

What Daughter Says: Maybe some kitchen appliances aren't all that bad, as long as the moments made around them are memorable.