Perhaps it is the counterbalance to that tinge of sadness when your tiny precious baby casts off babyhood, and strikes out into the wide world, that they also become the most enormous fun.
Kitty, at almost a month off two, is rapidly becoming my chief culinary assistant. She’s pretty good at podding peas, and will willingly taste test any cheese I may be contemplating adding to a dish, but her absolute favourite thing is to help me make bread.
We tend to eat almost all homemade bread, I bake on Monday, Thursday and Saturday and that just about lasts us through the week for sandwiches, scrambled egg on toast breakfasts, and the occasional snack. After numerous attempts at sourdough I’ve gone back to the tried and tested dried yeast; I’d love to make sourdough work for us, but we simply don’t eat enough bread to justify the amount of flour I was using to feed the little mite so I’m shelving that idea for a few years to come and sticking with old faithful.
Kitty, perched on one of our sturdy dining room chairs, is chief measurer of oats (3/4 of a cup here or there), stirrer of dry ingredients, and adder of extra salt/oats/flour when Mama isn’t really looking. Happily the bread seems to be surviving these variations on a theme.
I stir in the liquids and get the dough together and then little miss either has a go at prodding the big dough, or plays around with her little breakaway Kit-sized dough.
Sometimes I keep her bit separate and turn it into a roll for her lunch, and sometimes it all gets added back together before the proving stage but as far as she’s concerned, this may even be more fun than playdough.