My husband is German. His father moved to Canada as a young boy, having lost his own father to the war and his home and all he knew to the aftermath. Before meeting my husband, I’d never heard of nor seen pretzel buns, aka Bretzels, aka Laugenbrötchen (I looked that up – even my husband doesn’t know that word).
Waiting on the storm
The wind just picked up. By the time I publish this I’m sure it will be raining, perhaps heavily, with strong wind gusts and a flurry of leaves whipping past the windows. Hurricane Sandy, the so called “Frankenstorm” (don’t get me started on how I feel about such a trivial name for something that has already killed and is still causing destruction at this moment) is bearing down on us. By the time it reaches us Southern Ontario it won’t be a hurricane anymore, but it will be a force to be reckoned with. Continue reading
(scroll down for an update on my 40th birthday plans)
I have a culinary bucket l It’s not terribly long, though I do add to it on occasion. I blogged a bit about it on A Single Step (the blog my inner everything else booted my inner foodie from earlier this year). Looking back on the post, I see that not only have I not tackled much, I didn’t mention bagels on there.
They look so simple. Dough. I can make dough. Roll & shape. Bob Blumer learned to shape bagels in no time on his show. How hard can it be? Boil. Easy. Bake. Great, I’ve got it nailed.
Culinary ego is so cute, isn’t it? Here’s a pic of my shaping attempt, post-boil, to cure that in a hurry.