Day Dreaming Of Breads

 Saw this challah in my Twitter feed and started spontaneously drooling. 

We were watching Mark Wiens on YouTube, and I loved the pau bajji from a place called Jhol, and I think I’ll try making it myself; however, I will stuff each little ball with the bajji mixture so when you rip off pieces like monkey bread it will be the perfect bite containing bread and bajji. Snagged these screen grabs from his video and posting herein as a reminder for myself. 

I decided to make the Hokkaido Milk Bread recipe at the King Arthur Flour website. I didn’t add as much sugar, and I added a bit of pumpkin powder and turmeric in the dough. 

This was my first time making a baked product with a cooked tangzhong or panade. Not sure why I was intimidated, easy enough just pay close attention so it doesn’t scorch. 

I didn’t have the bajji for pau bajji on hand, and used what I did: chicken tikka masala and some mattar paneer. 

Oh, and I baked it in my air fryer. Again, worked fine, just keep an eye on it, and cover it halfway through. 

Just took the buns out of the air fryer and they smell and look great. Can’t wait to dig in. 

I’m about to pitch it in the trash. Rather than be jazzed by this, Maharajah’s first response is, “it smells funny.”

I’m struggling with anhedonia, and I wasn’t going to eat this anyway, made it for him, and again, I might as well have just *NOT.*

lHe wasn’t enthused by it, and wasn’t interested in eating it, claiming his stomach hurt; and in the next breath was talking about ordering Mexican or sushi for dinner, and there’s only so much rejection I can stomach. 

I tossed all of the buns in the trash while they were still warm, while he was giving me some schpiel about he’ll eat them whenever. 

Next time I bake this Hokkaido milk bread, I will do so for myself, cinnamon rolls with plenty of icing. 

Mood: slump-shouldered and dejected, bra-less and unwashed sitting in the car as he fetches sushi I am uninterested in eating. I mustered up a shred of joy to bake those buns, and in a moment of careless commentary, that shred was dashed. 

Whatever. I’m just a moody bitch.