Here’s What’s For Supper
Parmesan Herb Bread made from real yeast and whole wheat flour
Beef spareribs baked inside a black turkey roaster smothered in 100% pure Vermont maple syrup infused with fresh rosemary and several tablespoons of horseradish. (Yes, they sell horseradish in the hood. The new supermarket on the corner does not carry the mystical root. I must walk all the way to the Associated Supermarket, down near Marcy Projects to find it. ‘Bore’s Head is the brand and it costs $3.99 for a little jar.
Bradley took care of baking the ribs.
“Make a batch of that molasses basting jell so I can put it on my ribs.”
“Yes, sexy,” I say as he slaps my ass real hard. “It’s not molasses, it’s maple syrup, dear,” I explain while standing at the butcher block table mixing up the first few ingredients for a bread that I’ve never baked before. I stole the recipe from the back of a Fleischmann’s Active Dry Yeast package I found at the supermarket while picking up the ribs and maple syrup.
In a large glass bowl I stole from my ex-lover Frank, I heated two cups of water that had been filtered through a Brita water filter inside the microwave oven. When the temperature was slightly warm, not boiling, in went just two packages of the yeast. (Three come in a carton.) I swished it around with a fork until all was dissolved.
Holy hell– it calls for 2/3 cup of olive oil. Is it any wonder my ass is gettin’ so phat. In that went with three tablespoons of sugar and three and one half cups of Hecker’s fresh wheat flour.
I mixed it up and put a wet towel over it. The directions say, “Let sponge rest for 20 minutes”. Now what the hell does that mean? Do I throw in a sponge for those 20 minutes? I didn’t. I allowed it to ‘sponge’.
Now I know what the writer/ cooker was thinking when they wrote “sponge rest” on the back of the yellow and red packaging– behold, beneath the damp cloth there was a pre-loaf, an embryo like mass of a yeast infested womb that looks just like a sponge.
The twenty minutes passed fast. I have had two glasses of red Australian wine already today.
I punched down the sponge-like yeast mixture and added two teaspoons of salt, three-quarter’s cup of freshly grated parmesan cheese, two tea spoons of garlic power and freshly chopped basil leaves. Oh, I almost forgot to mention the teaspoon of oregano.
For ten minutes I kneaded the bread– throwing in almost two cups of white, bleached flour to keep it from sticking to the butcher block table.
“Stop smacking my ass Bradley, and put that maple syrup mixture on the ribs before they get too brown.”
The syrup boiled briefly with freshly chopped rosemary and horseradish does something to a piece of meat that I cannot describe with words. Bradley loves it. It keeps him around and from cheating on me.
“Do you want to play slave master again? Is that why you are acting so sassy today?,” he asks while pecking me on the cheek. He knows how to keep me cooking for him and he just loves it when I make him fresh bread. The loaves are covered inside two well greased aluminum bread pans– only $.99 for three and I’m wasting time writing, waiting to pop it in the oven with the ribs.
