Here is a little information about my Mama (I say this in the British way). She bakes many a thing and bakes them quite well. Chocolate mayonnaise cake is one of my particular favorites (no no, the mayonnaise is not chocolate. It's just a chocolate cake with mayo to make it delectably moist). My very favorite thing is her rolls. I have fond memories of waking up early on Saturday mornings, pilfering some rolls from the kitchen and then reading fairy tales in my bed for a few hours. Obviously this was a while ago since I haven't woken up early naturally for years.
Anyway, her rolls are delicious. But. My Mama has a little problem sometimes with her baking: salt. Or rather, a lack of salt. I don't know how many times she has put rolls in the oven and then said "Oh my gosh, I forgot the salt!" (Then she promptly makes another batch. Such dedication to quality!) If you have ever had a bread product without salt, you know what a big difference it makes. They're totally edible, but they're also totally flavorless.
So, this year I've been attempting bread things. I made two batches of rolls all myself, but one of our first wedding presents was a breadmaker.
I'd never so much as touched a breadmaker before, and its intimidation was second only to the Kitchenaid. Or maybe the food processor. Anyway, last week I finally got myself some bread flour and stocked up on yeast. Then, I did it. It was easy, and I only got a little scared with the pan popped out of place and I had to fix it mid-kneading. It cooked away while we were at church and when we got home the first thing I did was open it up.
Since he is so strong and manly, I had the Mister pull it out of the pan. It looked ever so large and square and was quite crusty as well. Undaunted, I got the knife and I cut it open. I took a bite.
"No no no no no NOOOOOOOO!"
I forgot the salt.