30 Before 30: #6 Cook Something With Yeast

I crossed the first thing off of my 30 Before 30 list, and unsurprisingly, it was an easy one. My story begins this past weekend when I went with some friends to one of the Mardi Gras parades that they have in Shreveport, LA. I took my two oldest nieces because my friends have daughters the same age. All and all there were 6 children to 4 adults. (Good thing they didn't realize they had us outnumbered.) It was quite a day of driving and waiting in the cold and sprinkling rain, but by the time the parade got to us, the rain had quit and we were ready for beads.

I was surprised by how much fun I had. The parade lasted about an hour but didn't feel that long at all. The floats were paced far enough apart that we had a little breathing room between each one. The girls all had an absolute blast! (As evidenced by Ms. Caroline, below.)

Anyway, the point in all this was that even though Mardi Gras is not particularly high on my radar as a holiday, I was in the mood to celebrate it. One of my other friends turned 40 last week, so I suggested having a Mardi Gras-themed celebration complete with a king cake (which I offered to make). On Monday, the party was postponed but I had already gotten all the stuff to make the cake, was in the mood to make it, and it had the added bonus of helping me cross something off my list. So, make it I did.

Now, by far, #6 was the item on my list that has gotten me the most ridiculed. "You've NEVER cooked with yeast?" No, I haven't. In fact, if I am reading a recipe that sounds awesome and realize that it calls for yeast, I move on. It's just one of those things that seems easy to mess up and kind of scary to try with no one there to offer guidance. Especially when the recipe has such "clear" directions like "Between 3-1/4 and 3-3/4 cups of flour." Sigh.

I soldiered on and started my king cake. I got the yeast dissolved and the flour and other dry ingredients added. Then came my first moment of panic. At this point, I had used 2 of the aforementioned cups of flour. The instructions told me to "Add additional flour until a soft dough forms. Dough will be sticky." Here was my pickle: With just the 2 cups of flour, the dough seemed soft and was sticky. How much more was I supposed to add? Gulp! So, I ended up adding to the minimum amount of flour that the recipe called for and then added a spoonful for good measure.

Is this right?! Panic!!!

The next instructions were to knead the dough for 6-8 minutes until "elastic." I set the timer on my oven for 7 minutes and called it a day when it went off, hoping against hope that it was elastic enough.

Elastic? Let's hope!



I let the dough rise, punched it down, rolled it out, added cinnamon-sugar, formed it into a crown shape, let it rise again, then baked it. All the while, I had a keen sense of nervousness. I don't like doing things without having a clear understanding of how to do them. But, the timer for the oven went off, I pulled the cake out, and lo and behold, it looked like a king cake and smelled like one, too.

Prettier than I expected!

At this point, I came to a realization. I did not have purple decorating sugar. When buying my supplies, I had forgotten to check my sugars. I made due with black sugar and just explained to everyone that I had forgotten. For the baby Jesus, I searched the toy section at my local Wal-Mart for something small enough to use and ended up buying a My Little Pony playset that had a tiny koala bear in it. My friend Michael ended up getting the piece with the "baby" in it. Hail, Michael! May you have good luck for the coming year!

The glaze ran everywhere.

I did it!

Now I don't know about you, but for the last several years I have given up drinking anything but water for Lent. I am hardcore about it, too, and don't count the weekends as free days (like you apparently can). I will not have anything but water between now and Easter. Let me tell you, it is difficult but rewarding. Any time I think about how much I want a coke or tea or really anything else (like when I had my blazing headache earlier), I really do think about how insignificant my sacrifice is when compared to giving your life for something you believe in. At the same time, I don't belittle my sacrifice either. It is difficult and it is an accomplishment when I make it to the end and can say I did it. So, on Tuesday as I contemplated the weeks ahead, I tried to decide what I wanted my last non-water drink for awhile to be. I opened my refrigerator and realized that I still had the rest of the Asti that my aunt bought to celebrate the end of the election last week. What remained amounted to a large glass, so I poured it, sat down with my slice of king cake, and celebrated. I crossed something off my list!

Cheers!