We couldn't have asked for more beautiful bread. All pocked and crisp. They sang as they cooled.
Roberto held the sheet pan over the sink while I sprayed the loaves.
That's good. That's enough.
A little bit more.
Okay. That's good.
Satisfied, I opened the oven door and in went the loaves. Two at a time.
Because it would be silly for us to make just one and if we're going to make two we might as well make four.
And so it went.
For the Birds
These are delicious. Perfect, actually. To be honest, though, they could be a bit dryer.
I know what the difference is. I weighed the flour. I'm not going to weigh the flour anymore.
You don't need to weigh the flour.
All one needs is instinct.