An hour later, I could hardly wait to see my dough, doubled in size. "Double dough," if you will. I lifted the towel from atop the bowl in grandiose fashion... and saw that my "double dough" turned out to be a "double didn't". That's right. Staring back at me was that same teensy perfectly imperfect lump of the hour before.
Where had I gone wrong? I had measured, mixed, and kneaded my little heart out. A few minutes on the internet was all it took to learn where I had gone astray. It was in that first little step. You remember- the "I was a pro" step. It turns out the point of mixing all that water, honey, and yeast served a greater purpose than to showcase my killer whisking skills. It's called proofing the yeast. It's supposed to foam up to show you that the super amazingly active insta-yeast is still super amazingly active.
Oh, it had proofed all right. It had "proofed" to be about as flat as a half-empty can of Mountain Dew on a redneck's nightstand. I'll have you know that I baked that lump of dough anyway. It came out as dense as a hockey-puck. Ah, well. I'll have to try it again with fresh yeast. I will conquer you, sandwich bread!
I had to laugh when I read this post. It's so something I would do. I'd also bake it anyway like you did but then I'd eat a slice just to show it who's boss...then toss it in the trash:).
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