Fluffy Sandwich Bread

Dear Turkey,

In the past year, my parents' house has undergone a transformation from "my parents' house," where you bring your dirty laundry from college and ask for money, to "Grandma and Papa's house," where all kinds of magical things can happen (and you still ask for money). 

I loved sleeping at my grandparents' houses when I was little, and, like today, I especially loved breakfast. My mom's mom would make homemade bread with homemade jam and tons of butter. By the time I knew her, the jam was freezer jam and the bread was from frozen dough from the store, but it still tasted homemade. 

Well, Deceased Family Members, I hope you are proud and/or jealous of my homemade bread (and jam). I made sandwich loaves this week because we are going to have grilled cheese for dinner (I am ashamed). You will see that I pretty much used the exact same ingredients that I've been using lately for my hard-crust country loaves. But the different treatment of the dough yielded a totally different product/smell/burn on my hand that is now blistering. 

Light and Fluffy Sandwich Bread:

In a bowl, combine

1/3 c sourdough starter (optional)

2 c warm water

1 T yeast

1 T sugar

1 T salt

Enough flour to form a sticky but cohesive dough, probably about 3 or 4 or 5 cups

Knead with hands until a ball forms, about 3 minutes. Rise, covered, in a warm spot until the dough has at least doubled. Divide the dough into two well-oiled (I used olive oil because that was what was on the counter, but butter would obviously be good, too) loaf pans. Drizzle with plenty of oil (or butter) and salt. Rise again until at least doubled. Bake at 350 degrees for about 45 minutes, or until the loaves are golden brown on top. 

You can see my parents' vintage Jenn-Air range that they have been saying they are going to get rid of for years. 

It's easier to let the loaves cool  before removing them from the pans.

But, if you are hungry, if you have to get home for baby bedtime, and if you have skills and a metal spatula, you can remove them and cool on a rack.

Well, Grandma (not you, Mom), I may not have seven kids, live on a farm, or have a birth-date before the widespread usage of antibiotics, but I can make a mean bread that makes my house smell just like yours.

I moss you,

Tofu