Baking Away the Blues

So I guess everyone goes through different stages of grieving. Mine apparently are:
-A cynic's view of the world.
-Applying for Grad school.
-Thinking about how that goat farm is looking good right about now.
-Realizing I'm labeling myself in the wrong writing genre.
-Wishing I had friends who actually likes to talk about the weird crap I do. (Passionate one-sided discussion about the Caucasus region and it's culture = blank stares from co-workers)
-Baking.

So as I entered the Baking stage of grieving, I realized that I can do one thing (in the kitchen) really friggin' well - bake. If there's an oven (or flame, I can bake in fire), tinfoil and ingredients, then there will be something amazing.

So this week:
-pasta, mushroom and cheese casserole
-ooey-gooey cheesy bake (husband devoured half in one sitting)
-chewy "I can feel it in my toes amazing" dark chocolate brownies
-my lip-puckering lemon cake with lime glaze
-cheesy biscuits

I thank my father who taught me this. Of course, I can cook on a stove (mighty well, danke!), but he really inspired me to love the oven. I always helped him. He was the cook of the house and I was always there next to him. It will be the one thing I will miss the most.

One thing we could never figure out together was bread. If it has yeast - it will fail. So tonight, I gave it another shot after I gave up on bread making 5 years ago. This was my result:

Only edible 

Yup, that flat doughy thing was bread. It was only edible. I think I made the water for the yeast too hot so it didn't rise and my shoulder doesn't let me knead well enough. Oh well, next time.

So tonight, my husband and I enjoyed the Middle Eastern marinated olives I made yesterday. I make them extra garlicky because that the ONLY way to eat the olives!