When I said that I made a toothy bread and forecasted this post, I was asked -repeatedly- "what's a toothy bread?" It never even occurred to me that toothy would not immediately give images of a wonderful chewy, sink your teeth into it, dense, grainy bread. I mean, come on... why wouldn't you immediately follow that thought process??
I can't quite recall where I first heard the word "toothy" in relation to a bread of this sort but it was so apt, in my opinion, that I can't quite replace it.
Anyway, this whole bread-making escapade began when I was trying to figure out breakfast this past weekend. I've made bread and buns (cinnamon, mostly), so it wasn't a whole new path... but I wanted to make a nice, yes, toothy bread to have Eggies and Toast. I had no bread... I was sick and miserable... and winter had descended upon our fair city, so leaving my house seemed like an epic feat. I scanned the cupboard and saw that I had two packets of quick rise yeast.
This is where you tell me that I'm crazy... when making bread seems to me to require less effort than taking the five minute journey to the market for a ready-to-eat, fresh made loaf. To which, I respond with, it doesn't require nearly the effort that you would think and that the smell of fresh baking (hell, even rising), bread perfuming your house makes it infinitely justifiable. Further, I abhor the cold and anything that I can do without leaving my house in a parka-scarf-mitts-hat-boots-combo (for something as simple as bread) will always be the easier option than the trek.