It is 11:15 PM, and I am making a preferment in order to try and bake french bread tomorrow afternoon.
I just cut open then new "big frikkin bag o' yeast" I got from CostCo the other day, and giddily jumped for joy at revealing the little brown dust that makes my bread magically delicious.
Yes. I'm baking. Accept it. My ciabatta is awesome, by the way. A little ugly right now, but tasty.
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