My Enemy

en-e-my:–noun

1. a person who feels hatred for, fosters harmful designs against, or engages in antagonistic activities against another; an adversary or opponent.

I don't think there is anyone who has a hatred for me, really.  At least I hope not.  I know I can't please everyone, but hey....   Anywho, I personally have a STRONG hatred for something. Yes, something.  And what may that be, you ask?  Baking with Yeast!  Yep, yeast.  I don't know what it is, but yeast and I don't mix.  We are like oil and water. 

Now, I have been told and I do think so myself that I am a pretty good cook.  I like to cook and bake, most days.  ;)  I have tried many, many times to work with yeast and Every. Single. Time. = FLOP! 

I don't know what I do to the yeast to make it HATE me.  Really, it does.  So you can see, it is a mutual feeling! 

I received a new cookbook for Christmas - (a girl can never have too many cookbooks, right?)

Get it here -- LOVE it, by the way. 

Well, all except for one recipe.  Which was, you guessed it, a FLOP!  I tried, once again to conquer my yeast dilema.  I decided to try making the pizza dough.  Homemade pizza dough.  Yum!  Right?

I got out my new handy dandy thermometer to test the water, cause frankly I must admit in the past I wondered if my problem working with yeast was the temp. of my water.  Makes sense, I know.  If I have it too cold, it won't activate the yeast, if I have it too hot, it kills the yeast.  So... back to the thermometer.  I checked the temperature.... PERFECT!  I was SO proud that I was going to have a yummy, delicious pizza crust.  I was determined, ya'll. 

So, I did EXACTLY what the recipe said.  Then came the fun part.  Mixing it.  UGH!  Let me let you in on an important fact.  I don't own a stand mixer.  (Are you seeing where this is going?)  I got out my trusty little hand mixer.  I sure didn't want to stand there all night and mix it by hand.  Well, if only you could have been a fly on the wall.  I tell ya... it was A SIGHT!  I could have won some $ on AFV with a video of my escapade.  My little mixer mixed just fine, but it never got to the "ball" stage.  I tried hand stirring it.  OH. MY. GOODNESS!  My arm just about fell off.  Seriously.  By this time, I was mad, frustrated, angry, messy, ready to give up. 

I called J in to help me.  Why??  I don't know.  I wanted help.  I wanted someone to FIX my issue.  That's what guys like to do, right?  Fix things.  Offer suggestions.  Especially on how to do things the best way.  Well, he doesn't know a whole lot about cooking or baking.  I did remember that he worked at a national pizza chain. A l-o-n-g time ago.  Guess what, they didn't make their dough.  It came to them pre-made.  No help!

So, I kept working with it.  Mind you, the sticky mess was all over the kitchen and me!  Bottom line.  We didn't have homemade pizza crust.  It ALL went in the garbage.  I cringed.  I don't like to waste things.  I have a problem with that.  A good one I guess. 

I promised myself that night, a few short weeks ago, that I WOULD persevere.  I just needed time to get over my latest episode with my enemy! 

Stay tuned for the next chapter!