Ah dear readers – this is a cautionary tale for those who would worship at the feet of the great Martha Stewart. For we all know that pride go-eth before a fall. Or in my case, pride go-eth before an explosion.
Last night, I quite proudly put a picture of my newest loaf of homemade bread onto Facebook. Soon after, Linda and I were eating homemade pizza and I was basking in the compliments I demanded on a fairly frequent basis. After dinner, I put a lid on the remaining bread dough, and put it in the fridge to cool further and wrongfully assumed that the rising would stop. Little did I know the great power of my bread dough. Defying physics and chemistry, the bread continued to rise in a chilled environment. Meanwhile, Linda and I were barely asleep for the night when a fairly large explosion rocked the house. We hopped out of bed, and could find nothing amiss. And just as I was commenting that it seemed like an explosion, I opened the refrigerator: