What am I referring to? You'd probably guess something important like adapting to a difficult aspect of German culture, learning German, or finishing a project of some sort. I highly doubt many of you would guess that I'm still childish enough to become both super excited and totally proud over something like...well...bread.
Yes, Zopf. MY zopf! Up until last week, the weekly joke around the house was that "Julianne can't go home yet because she still can't make or slice zopf right" Then last week, all by myself, I tried one more time. The dough looked good enough, I managed the world's most complicated braid, I didn't burn anything, and once it was sliced, it was thin enough to please Christian and thick enough to be sturdy. One question remains...how pathetic is it to be bursting with pride over bread?
Funny, I feel confident that baking zopf every Saturday morning will be one of my fondest memories once I'm back in Oregon. Week after countless week of braiding it 3, 4, 5 times before calling in the professional (Mama) to rescue what I had turned into a mass of overworked dough and watching her somehow revive it to what always turned into a gorgeous Sunday breakfast. I must give credit where credit is due, however. Zopf, in fact, is not German at all but rather Swiss and although I wasn't aware of it at first, my exchange included personal baking lessons from the best <3
Yes, Zopf. MY zopf! Up until last week, the weekly joke around the house was that "Julianne can't go home yet because she still can't make or slice zopf right" Then last week, all by myself, I tried one more time. The dough looked good enough, I managed the world's most complicated braid, I didn't burn anything, and once it was sliced, it was thin enough to please Christian and thick enough to be sturdy. One question remains...how pathetic is it to be bursting with pride over bread?
Funny, I feel confident that baking zopf every Saturday morning will be one of my fondest memories once I'm back in Oregon. Week after countless week of braiding it 3, 4, 5 times before calling in the professional (Mama) to rescue what I had turned into a mass of overworked dough and watching her somehow revive it to what always turned into a gorgeous Sunday breakfast. I must give credit where credit is due, however. Zopf, in fact, is not German at all but rather Swiss and although I wasn't aware of it at first, my exchange included personal baking lessons from the best <3 
Happy Easter Julianne. Such humor in your writings. I love reading them over and over. So does Papa.
ReplyDeleteYour bread is so beautiful. I really am excited to watch you make your bread. I hope you never forget how.
Have a great day, and enjoy your time with Miri. I know you will. Love you much. Grammy