I made bread last night. Or I attempted to. I suppose I should have realised something was wrong when the dough could barely absorb half the flour it was supposed to (but having never come across a problem like this before, I just put it down to warm weather). I turned the dough out and let it rise for an hour - in which we went out for dinner - and when I checked on it, it was the exact same size it had been. Now, my brain went something like, "it /has/ risen, surely. It's just that the bowl it's in is so ridiculously over-sized that the bread just looks the same size in comparison." The bowl was not over-sized.
Anyway. Then I remembered that the package of yeast I'd used had been open for a few days. And then I realised the yeast had died sometime over those few days. Poor yeast. And poor me, who had no bread to look forward to. I shaped it into a loaf anyway and left it alone for another hour, hoping something might happen. It didn't. I used the dough as clay to make a very basic duck (which got thrown out today) and threw the rest of the dough in the bin.
Failed bread attempt #1. So, for being baking bread for a few months now, that's not bad at all.
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