the dog bread and los cardones

So after receiving 5 pounds of poppy seeds (and scaring my roommate by that), I tried the Mantova olive oil bread. It contains plenty of other seeds, apart from the poppy, and lots of olive oil. They were falling out of the outer skin when kneading the dough and the dogs were happily licking the floor. It rose fine and it was really nicely smelling. Baked poppy seeds smell just heavenly. Too heavenly for a devilish taste of Sasha, who occasionally sneaks food from the table. This time she did it not due to a separation anxiety attack, as happened before. This time it was right behind our backs when we were putting food on the table in the dining room and the kitchen counter was unguarded for barely ten seconds. I cannot blame her. It was a good bread. And she took only two slices.

The next bread is one I made earlier and it is my favorite, a light rye bread. It has less than 20% rye flour and lots of caraway seeds, even though I use less than the recipe calls for. With a good bread flour it is very nice to work on and smells fantastic when baked. Plus this time, it was cracking for a long time, after it was out of the oven. That sound is really something.

It made me quite happy and sandwich from it was really good. It is different than a commercial rye bread at home, not gummy, not sour, but still very good, the biga fermentation does its job. It made me that happy that I decided to push forward with some work and after months I got back to measurements on the microscope. It is a routine work in the darkroom with only a green laser and the computer screen as light sources, plus some radio or music. I have had one and the same collection of music on my mp3 player for over a year. So, on Wednesday it was Annie Lenox. On Thursday, however, it came to Juanes, one Spanish song after another... I do understand a bit of the language, mostly am happy from recognizing words and verbs... And as I am sitting in the dark, clicking every minute on the keyboard and moving sample around, my brain calm and relaxed, Spanish words in my ears, I started remembering Argentina. I got back memories so vivid and fresh, the smell of the country after rain,  recalled visions from our daily trips from Quijano to Salta by bus, the Christmas dinner with Luis's family in that gas lamp-lit room in his brother's house, the streets, the light, the words, the taste, flavors... it all came back. These memories were mine true memories, and they were evoked from the Spanish in my ears, although I have not listened to this music in Argentina at all... it is as if some "Spanish part" of my brain woke up and all related to it became alive. Although it is a bittersweet memory, it is very vice and valuable. I was so surprised to remember so strongly that what happened two, three years ago, as if it was in front of me. It was fascinating, I could roam freely in my "Spanish brain" and recall this and that with an overwhelming ease... like rewinding a movie. I guess memories like this make easier to forgive ourselves for our sins on others.