Start with an onion . . .: Ikea bread-in-a-box

You know how you go to Ikea and stuff seems awesome so you buy it? Like the Bekvam stool you are going to hack into the perfect toddler tower but somehow, 3 months later, it is still just a stool? Or the Bekant sit-stand desk that promises to turn your workspace into an ergonomic dream at half the price of the competition? Or the clutter management solutions that can't keep up with real life clutter?

Right. So with good intentions of baking a healthy Euro-style bread, I purchased the gable-top box of bread mix, stuffed it in the back of the cupboard and forgot about it.

Then last week, I wanted a loaf of bread but remembered that a) I haven’t yet replaced my bread machine, b) I did not want to go to the store. That’s when I remembered my Ikea bread mix.

Looks like really healthy ingredients.

I’m not going to lie. When I opened the box, it smelled like pressed wood. Yuck. But I was desperate, so I kept going.

The instructions say to start by shaking the box well to loosen contents. Since the box had spent considerable time at the back of the cupboard, the contents had seriously clumped together and I didn't shake it well enough. In retrospect I should have gone poking in there with a stick to loosen the grains. Hindsight is 20/20.

Nonetheless, I added the water and shook that box like a wet dog. Unfortunately, although I thought I had shaken enough, when I poured it into the pan, it was a gloopy mess topped with sawdust.

And still I didn’t give up.

I got out a spoon and stirred vigorously. This action may have caused the greased tin to be un-greased because an hour later, when I pulled the bread out of the oven and tried to pry it out of the tin, a good chunk of it stuck to the bottom.

Or possibly I didn’t bake the loaf long enough. Thinking things couldn't get any worse, I put the chunk of bread back in the pan, and the pan back in the oven. I was not giving up. I am that strong.

After another 30 minutes of baking, I said “enough is enough,” and took the loaf out of the oven. By then dinner was over and no one wanted to try the unappetizing hunk of bread so it sat on the counter overnight. Unloved. Unwanted. The next morning I hacked a piece off and ate it. I told you, I'm a rock.

Hmm. It was surprisingly good. It had a similar taste and texture to the really heavy bread I enjoy so much when we visit Laura in Germany. And over the next few days, the texture and flavour continued to improve. My refusal to give up was rewarded!

So you know what? The next time I went to Ikea, I didn’t buy into the unachievable dream of clutter organization, but I did get another box of bread mix. And I’m going to make it again. I'll just be more diligent about shaking.