Bread

I just realized what Michele was talking about a few posts ago. The Artisan Bread can become doughy in the middle---unless you cook the hooey out of it. Yes, using my southern roots of Making Sure It Is Really Done, I usually add on at least 5 minutes to the cooking time for the bread. I've yet to burn the bread (and I've REALLY let it bake), but there are times when it's less than done. So, umm, yeah. That's my advice. Cook it to death.

And both bowing to and bucking southern tradition: We have a big snow storm coming. And so I went out to buy milk (along with a bazillion other people at Harris Teeter at 8:45 this morning). But I did NOT buy bread. Instead, I bought flour to make it.

Dave is calling our bread "microbread" after the microbrew beer we got used to in LA. Once you get used to drinking locally crafted and brewed beer, it's hard to go back to Budweiser and Miller Lite. We both think the same thing is true of this bread. A regular loaf of bread from the store is going to taste awfully "light" after the toothsome, chewy stuff we've been making.

OK. Time to go stare out the window at the snow. As much as I mock Storm Watch 2010, I'm fully southern and am obsessively checking the radar and two or three weather forecasts. Lame. But me!

The Microwave Done Dinged

I love my neighborhood. I assume that most people like their neighborhood, but I love where I live. (Apart from the evil rats--6 dead now!---and the wiley rabbits).

This weekend was the third Art Krawl in Plaza-Midwood. The neighborhoods around Charlotte have Art Crawls regularly, but only recently have they been getting more popular; they "sprint" now instead of crawl.

However, the one we went to on Saturday night rocked. It was jam packed full of people we knew and people we didn't, and I have to be honest that we knew a lot of the people. It extended from the Harris Teeter past the train tracks to DI Central, which if you know the 'hood is a really long way.

We saw art. We heard bands. We dunked the roller girls for $1. We helped the belly dancers find the tattoo and piercing parlor. We caught bubbles and mardi gras beads and we didn't have to show our ***s. And we stayed just at one end of the party/krawl. Next time, we're going to eat before we go so we can explore more.

Of course, there is a limit to what we can do. Part of the family friendly vibe of the festival means that families are on their way out when the more fun part starts. That's absolutely fine, but we noticed when we were leaving that it was already past dusk. And in the summer, that's late, my friends.

As we left with another family, I noted that The Butter was at Room Temperature in the Child Melting-0-meter. When we arrived at our friends' house and their son began wailing that the house was too dark, I upped the meter to The Butter is in the Microwave.

Dave looked at me and said, "The Microwave Done Dinged."

So, yes, Plaza-Midwood and the South have rubbed off on all of us in this hood. It's a good thing we have no intention of ever leaving where we are.