We made pretzels today. I thought it was easy folding it but it was hard. My dad taught me and my mum how to fold it. I learned to wash your hands before and after cooking. I also learned to put flour on your hands before rolling it because if you don’t the batter sticks to you.
Every now and then, I wake up and think: Michelle, you work full time, study hard, and are raising two kids – you slacker. Go challenge yourself. And then I decide to make something ridiculous. Today was one of those days. What was I thinking?!
It all started well. The kids learned about proving dough, kneading dough, dusting with flour, and knocking back (and for those of you who have both read Master 7’s post AND eaten his cooking, I promise that he already knew about washing his hands before hitting the kitchen today). Master 7 also learned more about division and ratios. Despite the school holiday maths lesson, they had fun kneading and rolling the dough into snakes, and making a huge mess.
Little hands making big results!
And then we had to shape the bloody things.
Suffice it to say that Spunky Tech Guy, who, unlike his wife is not all thumbs, had to come and give tutorials to Master 7 and I. That I didn’t burst into tears and throw the dough into the bin is a miracle. I can guarantee that the pictured pretzels were made by the boys of the house – Miss 4 gave up after the snakes step, but I think I’ll be telling the world that she made my sorry attempts. They looked fine until we poached them. Then they expanded, lost their shape, and just looked like dog turds. Salty, sad dog turds. I really am not good at this kind of thing.
Harder than it looks!
But the boys’ look good, Master 7 learned a lot today, and had fun in the process. And they taste fantastic. Even my lumps of abstract bread art. So it’s a win! A very grown up way to enjoy the fruit of my kids’ labourEventually, I gave up shaping the pretzels and made a really tasty loaf. Who says laziness doesn’t pay?!