On Sunday, they came over for a session on yeast breads. Before dinner, I asked them to do a "Vanna" presentation in front of our bounty:
We made pretzel dogs, pretzel rolls, no-knead bread, and bagels (which were still in the oven when I took the photo). Talk about a carb extravaganza!
Our doughy afternoon reminded me of this funny baking-related picture:
And here's a silly bit of baking humor, disguised as an obituary notice (originally found here):
Veteran General Mills spokesman, the Pillsbury Doughboy, died yesterday of a severe yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71.
Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch. The gravesite was piled high with flours.
Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded. Born and bread in Minnesota, Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times, he still was a crusty old man and was considered a positive roll model for millions.
Doughboy is survived by his wife, Play Dough, and three children: John Dough, Jane Dough and Dosey Dough, plus they had another bun in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart. The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.
If you smiled, please rise to the occasion and pass it on to someone who might be having a crumby day and kneads a lift.