Ahhh,
oui. Le Brioche. Mon
amie,
Julie shared this recipe with me. It turned out
le delicious. In fact, he first loaf was eaten within 2 hours after in came out of the oven. By me. Okay, The Captain, Fish and two of their friends helped. My girl, Mrs. Brown was there, but she says she didn't eat any of it. I think she's lying. I saw some jam on the corner of her mouth when she left. It was so
tres bien, I have another 2 loaves rising right now. Merci, Julie! I would make some for you, but I am
le tired. For those who don't parlez-vous, the title means, "Happiness doesn't come from bars of gold, but from small change." Roughly. It describes how I feel about baking bread...and eating it. The title came from a little french song about Sunday afternoon lunches, spent with family and the pleasure we get from such simple things. Watching our kids grow, seeing our parents smile at them, telling stories and laughing, good food, good friends, good times.
This weekend, as per Team Tradition, (
Traditiooooon! TRADITION!) we watched the UT-
OU game and then picked pumpkins at a pumpkin patch. Our usual pumpkin place was the fantastic
South 47 Farm, in Redmond, WA. Since that is about 2,400 miles away, we went to the
Elgin Christmas Tree Farm...which also is a pumpkin patch in the fall. It was certainly a
respectable pumpkin patch, but it is Texas in October. Which means it was 90 degrees out. Not very
fallish. The Captain had a great time, though, what with the hayride and all. The rest of us, not so much. Fish was displeased with the heat, and Mr. Purl frowns upon holiday festivities and the like. (He says it's because he's dead inside.) It was just hot. And we had to pay for admission. Then we told The Captain to pick any pumpkin he liked, so he chose a really big one out of the $9 pile. So we stood in line to pay, with Fish shaking his tiny, angry fists at us, got to the front of the line to hear the cashier say, "That will be $18, please.". Mr. Purl looks at me with
that look, and I say to the cashier, "But it was in the $9 pile!!"
She says, very sweetly, "I am so sorry, we charge by weight. That one should not have been in the pile."
The Captain starts wailing, "NOOO! This is the best pumpkin in the world! We can't put it back!", Fish has gone from just shaking his tiny, angry fists, to growling and shaking them, and there are about seven thousand people behind us in line. Mr. Purl, pulls out a twenty, gives me that look, and pays the nice lady. I heart him.
So, we drive home and I announce it's family nap time. Sigh. I miss you, Pacific Northwest. But I am learning to love you again, Texas, for what you are.