If I Can't Have the Sun
Since Christmas, we have fallen back into the beloved routine of daily bread making. Kevin and I take turns. He makes exotic things - ciabatta, hand kneaded sourdough, english muffins.
My bread, or Kat's bread rather, is more basic. Less glamorous and needing only the starter, water, flour and salt. Thrown all in my stand mixer and then essentially left to its own devices, with gentle nudges from me on the odd occasion.
The breads all rise in the studio, as it is the warmest room in the house. My room, therefore, smells a bit like ale. I can only hope the aroma isn't impregnating the yarn for the kits, but who knows.
I like to think it smells homey.