My husband is an amazing baker. He bakes seriously hardcore bread. Well, the bread is not hard. Well, it's chewy when need be. Or fluffy if that's what he's going for. He makes the BEST homemade croissants you will ever taste (including the ones you ate at that little bistro in Paris) and a mean focaccia.
His current obsession: creating a sourdough culture from wild yeast in the air. Not using shipped organisms or bought starters. Just the air. So far, not so much luck. Mainly, because there is no safe and temperature controlled proofing area in our house. He tried the oven, but one time, I didn't realize it was in there, and I preheated the oven for something else, went to put in my cookies and GAW! Dead yeast all over the place. Scorched in the very place they thought they would be protected. And by all over the place I mean in his pyrex bowl under a nearly fiery tea towel. I could almost hear their little screams: NO! I'M MELTING AWAY! I JUST WANT TO RISE AND MAKE WONDERFUL BREAD! OH WHY WON'T YOU LET ME LIVE?!
So I bought Tony a home use proofing cabinet. Like in October. And have been hiding it under my bed since then, waiting for Christmas. And visions of nummy croissants danced in my dreams.
But the mule couldn't wait until Christmas.
Last week, I caught him googling DIY proofing boxes, involving rudimentary wiring, a treble light, a thermostat, and some sort of insulated box. So I was like: Really, Tony? You're gonna do wiring? Involving a lightbulb? and something containing mercury? You won't even change a lightbulb without turning the breaker off. And he's all like: Yo, baby. I can do anything. And I'm like: how much did that treble light cost? And he's like: It was cheap, now get off my back, woman! And I'm thinking: you SUCK. Just lay off the DIY projects and wait two flipping weeks.
This morning, I went to let the cat out at the back door to find this:
An upsidedown Rubbermaid bin with a thermometer sticking out of it and an extension cord. I'm thinking: GAWD. When will he give UP?!
I texted his colleague at work and told her the situation and she said she would gladly bitch-slap him if he mentioned anymore about building a proofing box or ordering parts from Home Hardware to build said box.
Tonight, he comes home with this:
I'm like: What are these for? He's like: they're for a little project. I'm like: what sort of project? He's like: a prototype proofing box.
That was it.
I marched to the bedroom, told him to follow me. I pulled out the proofing box and threw it on the bed and said: Here. Do you want this NOW or can I wrap it and put it under the tree?
He looked all giddy, then sheepish, then said: you can wrap it. Then I looked at him and said: I ordered this in friggin OCTOBER. And it was not cheap. So can you CEASE AND DESIST all the DIY proofing boxes? I don't want you spending anymore money or bringing home garbage to make anymore "projects."
He laughed. I tossed the box back under the bed and said: Merry Effing Christmas. Now get rid of those styrofoam boxes.
Then he says: Ooh. I'd better phone Home Hardware tomorrow and cancel that order I made.
I'm like: WHAT did you ORDER? And he's like: maybe just a small thermostat or something...
and I'm like FACEPALM.
And that, my friends, is how to spoil possibly the best gift ever.