These were from a while ago, but I rediscovered the picture today. Alors- on the blog!
I felt very sophisticated, making baguettes. I've made bread before (with varying degrees of success, due to my unfortunate habit of reckless improvisation), and King Arthur Flour has never led me astray, so I really couldn't worry. However, making something that everybody recognizes is actually a little bit intimidating. Instead of safely introducing some clever, new concoction to eat, you're setting yourself up for comparison. The person who lived in France and munched bread straight from the patisserie with fresh brie... the sinful red velvet cake at the restaurant last weekend... homemade chocolate chip cookies from mom... I don't like the thought of presenting people with some washed-out, overbaked facsimile of a baguette. It's much simpler to make something and pretend "it was meant to be this way!" even if something isn't quite right.
These baguettes were lovely, though. They were crunchy and golden outside, with an airy, soft interior, just the way a baguette should be. I imagined that three baguettes would be overkill, even for my eager host family's appetite. I imagined slicing the loaves, and I figured that it would last ages. I ran upstairs to get my camera, but when I got back down, half the loaf was gone! I was shocked, because my family always cuts up baguettes. We use a quarter of a loaf through an entire meal. A split second later, though, I realized that the rest of the world just tears off the stuff, and I scolded myself for being surprised. These are the dangers of leaving baked goods out on the counter! You have to be quick to take pictures.
It's all for the better, though. I'd much rather have people eat the things I bake with gusto, because that's the main reason to bake! Who doesn't want to be appreciated?
Today's good thing of the day: Enthusiasm. I appreciate people who appreciate things. Sometimes, I meet people who might go overboard with their hunger for life once in a while (or all the time). I believe that if somebody means well, and is friendly and happy, they never deserve to have people think badly of them. I have friends who fit this description. Some are best consumed in manageable quantities, but unless somebody is truly unpleasant, there's no reason to bemoan their energy. This is definitely advice I should give myself on a daily, hourly basis- but I'm trying.
(Side note: these baguettes are lovely with Nutella)