It is no secret that I love to bake bread.
One wee gander at my recipe index is all it takes to be convinced of my
The problem lies in the fact that I don’t eat very much bread. I love LOVE it, don’t get me wrong, but I try to limit my intake. As with most super-delicious things in life, for me, eating a slice of homemade bread is like the opening of pandora’s box.
You know what causes me emotional turmoil? Unnecessarily spending hoards of money on things.
I am relentlessly scouring grocery flyers, shopping both virtual and physical sale racks, and looking for discounts upon discounts upon already-clearance-priced items.
On New Year’s Eve, my family and I had a game night. Go out?? Pfft. Nope. What a hassle. In the dead of Winter, after a very major snowfall, when things are twice, thrice, four times
a lady *ahem* expensive, I’m not down.
Especially not when I can stay home with the people whom I love, and eat delicious, garlicky, buttery, parmesan-y, bread that I can dip in a bushel of homemade marinara sauce.