Keep Yourself Rolling In The Dough With A Bread Machine

Some people like to spend hours in the kitchen. More power to them.

Not me. I spend as little time in the kitchen as possible. I have a coffeemaker, so I make coffee. I have a microwave, so I make popcorn. I have an electric can opener, so I make soup.

And I have a bread machine, so I make bread.

Using my trusty Black & Decker, which took over from a valiant but worn out Mr. Loaf (it died last year, may it rest in peace), I fill my home every third day with the wonderful aroma of fresh-baked bread. For four years now, I have kept myself and my family rolling in dough while actually saving us money.

A 2-pound loaf of store-bought bread costs what? $2? $2.50? And there’s no way it tastes or smells as good as one of my fresh-baked beauties, which sets back our food budget maybe 35 cents in ingredients.

I have no bread-making repertoire. I make one kind and one kind only - sweet butter loaf - with no desire to extend my range. I know what I like. I know how to do it. And I know how much of my precious time it takes: two minutes on a slow day. If I really worked at it, which would defeat the purpose, I think I could break 60 seconds.

I confess, some preparation is involved to make this possible. Every other weekend I spend as many as 10 minutes preparing four bread-mixture packets. Here’s what goes into each of the 1-gallon freezer bags: 4-1/4 cups of bread flour, 3 tablespoons of sugar, 3 tablespoons of powdered milk, 1 teaspoon of salt. I seal the bags and leave them on top of the microwave.

I like watching “Seinfeld” reruns at 7:30 p.m., so on bread-baking nights I use Jerry’s opening monologue as my get-ready cue. As soon as the monologue ends, I duck into the kitchen and measure 1-2/3 cups of water and 3 tablespoons of butter into the bread machine bucket. Then I dump in one of my mixed packets and sprinkle 2 teaspoons of bread machine yeast on the top.

That’s the hard part. I pop the bucket into my Black & Decker bread machine and push three buttons: The first sets it for a regular crust. The second sets it for rapid bake - 1 hour 58 minutes. The third gets things started.

Two hours later, the machine beeps and the bread is ready. It goes onto a metal cooling rack, with my wife usually claiming the ceremonial first slice before retiring for the night.

I prefer to wait until the next morning, when I toast up a couple of slices for a tasty jelly sandwich. In keeping with my minimum effortmaximum results credo, I use a plastic bread-slicing guide (about $20, and well worth the money) to ensure a straight and easy cut.

As Churchill might have said, never in the history of food preparation has so much been derived from so little effort.