Month: May 2023

Recipe: Buckwheat bread

It wasn’t until the doctor suggested I try a month of gluten-free that I began to crave bread. And pastries. And pasta. Erg. Even though it turns out that I am not gluten-intolerant or even sensitive, my gluten-less month grew my creativity. This buckwheat bread was one of my favorite takeaways, a recipe I still make although I can eat all the bread, pastries, and pasta I want! (Oddly enough, I don’t even want them anymore.)

This buckwheat bread is a quick-bread, really, and it takes almost no effort. I really like the kefir component–it seems to make the gluten-free texture just a tad springier. I realize, however, that not everyone has kefir fermenting on their countertop, so plain Greek yogurt may also work. Note though, that your kefir substitute should be something that you can substitute for a fat since this recipe has no oil.

  • 2 ¼ c. (270g) buckwheat flour
  • 1 tsp. baking soda
  • 1 tsp. salt
  • 2 eggs
  • ¾ c. milk kefir
  • 2 Tbsp. honey

Mix dry ingredients. Add eggs, kefir, and honey. Mix well.

Pour into greased and flour-dusted bread pan. Bake at 350° F. (180° C) for 30 minutes or until golden brown. Note that baking time may vary with the size of your bread pan. Also note that the yeast-less loaf will remain a small, quick-bread size and be a little crumbly because of the absence of gluten.

Allow to cool before slicing. I love using this recipe for small sandwiches or simply topped with strawberry jam.

brown bread slice with red jam

Limiting choices and such

When I sit down to write, I like to have a plan. Today I have none. I have a mental list of undeveloped ideas that I haven’t had time to think through. Not yet. So welcome to my stream of consciousness, which has no theme nor plot nor point.

Summer is coming. The forecast says that May is supposed to cool off partway through, but so far we’re careening towards a hot and dry summer. It makes me glad to miss it. I’m booked now: my bus ticket, my Airbnb, my flights, my airport pick-up. Everything is arranged for physically arriving Stateside come July.

The trip is planned. It’s everything else that worries me.

I don’t enjoy closing down a house for three months, especially when I have an inkling that a host of other townies would be delighted to change the locks and move into my house while I’m gone. (Yes, yes. This does happen. And regularly.) The landlady says she’ll drop in every now and then to check on things, and it’s her house, so I guess I’ll let that inkling evaporate. But cleaning out the fridge and freezer and purging the cupboard of anything inclined to hatch moths or rot… Sigh. My down-the-hall neighbor volunteered to babysit my plants. “Don’t worry if they die,” I told her. They lead a fairly risky life with me anyway.

I’d like to buy some new clothes and maybe sew too so I don’t return to my passport country looking like a tramp. The other day, my neighbor boy was delighted to find the shoe rack I recently tucked behind an inner door. “Shoes!” he cried, exposing the rack to his mother and me. Shoes indeed. All two pairs of them. Well, three if you count my walking shoes which can only be differentiated from my “good” shoes by how worn the soles are. Oh, and my good shoes have a smudge of yellow paint from when I slipped on a freshly painted curb. It wasn’t until my neighbor boy exposed my shoes neatly lined on the rack that I realized how slim my pickings have become. So I promptly ordered a pair of sandals.

But the truth is that I like limiting my choices. When my days are filled to the brim with choices, it’s nice to have an area I don’t have to consider at length. Sneakers or flats?

Then again, I also run the risk of looking like a tramp.

I make myself a weekly menu too. Beans on Mondays and Tuesdays. Fish on Wednesdays, etc. Of course, I am forever changing my recipes and portions–the fun part for me. And there are those days when I could happily devour everything in my refrigerator because I can’t stop being hungry. But always sticking to a plan isn’t much fun anyway.

Do you limit your choices in certain areas of your life? If so, which areas? Do you find it repressive or helpful?

I think I should sign off now. I’m realizing that the only reason I wrote this much is because I’m dragging my feet about the next items on my to-do list. So until the next time, when I can hopefully provide writing with a bit more substance (but don’t hold your breath).

Note: I have a new pair of sneakers waiting for me in the States. They *cough* may be exactly the same shoe that I already have two pairs of, but at least they’re a different color this time!

Also note: The purple striped wallpaper was not even close to being my idea. If you want to discuss limited choices further, we can talk about moving into a furnished apartment with a very involved landlady. 🙂