A B@!$H Called Wanda

Several weeks ago, the boys and I trekked a little further into South Austin to visit New Flower Market, another one of those alleged farmers' markets that's just a small-scale and slightly less pricey version of Whole Paycheck. While there, I happened upon a bulk 10-grain bread mix and delightedly dumped several scoops' worth into a bag to bring home.

At the time of purchase, I oh so wisely wrote down on the twistie tag the mix's producer, Wanda's Nature Farm Foods. I knew that information would come in handy if I were going to find the instructions for using the mix. Unlike at Central Market, New Flower (and Whole Paycheck and Sprouts, for that matter) offer print-out labels for bulk foods that include not only the item's ingredients but also its preparation instructions, if pertinent.

Days later, I took to the Web to track down Wanda and her instructions. While I did find a site for the company, the tab for baking instructions has this oh-so-helpful note:

We are currently putting our baking instructions on our site. In the mean time, please email us at customerservice@superbakes.com if you need instructions! Thank you

Okay, Wanda's site's pretty low-tech, so I can understand not having readily available instructions. Plus the folks were kind enough to provide an email address, so, hey, great. I quickly send off an email, explaining that I need the instructions for Wanda's 10-grain bread mix.

Do I hear back?

Yeah, Gentle Reader, you know the answer.

Flash forward to the present--well, a few days back. The husband was out of his favorite six-seed bread, the weather is allegedly perfect for baking bread (King Arthur assures me bread rises higher on rainy days, and Austin was enjoy a string of rainy, cool days as it flirted with autumn as the autumn equinox came 'round) and I had this sizable bag of 10-grain bread mix just aching to be made. So I called Wanda's customer service toll-free number, and the woman I spoke with seemed ready to help. She did apologize that she couldn't email the instructions right then because she didn't have them on her system to email. However, she'd grab a box, scan the back of it to digitize the instructions and email them. She assured me I'd have them later that morning.

Did I get those instructions emailed to me as promised?

Yeah, Gentle Reader, you know the answer to that.

What's a faudie to do? Well, first I tracked down a basic ratio of dry ingredients to moisture for good bread-making. However, I was a little leery of using it because the bread mix, I seemed to recall, contained dehydrated versions of certain moist ingredients--but I couldn't be sure because the ingredients aren't given on Wanda's craptacular Web site.

Dismissing the ratio, I then sought out other 10-grain bread mixes on the Web. Sure enough, Bob's Red Mill makes one and is kind enough to post the instructions for the product on its useful Web site. Armed with a pretty good idea of what to do with my mix, I headed to the kitchen.

As the Welbilt worked, I hovered nearby, anxious to help out the mix and the machine as needed. The kneaded stages seemed to go well enough, but...

I wound up with a doorstop.

The loaf hardly rose, which made me question if the mix did indeed contain yeast. "Why did I think it contained yeast?" you ask, Gentle Reader? Because a few days before I attempted to make Wanda's mix, I discovered it's now also sold at my local Whole Paycheck. Fortunately for me, in some small way, Whole Paycheck prints on the label on the mix's bin what it contains. I tried my best to commit key ingredients--including yeast-- to memory, but...hey, I'm human and have a busy life. My memory's not the greatest, so perhaps I was wrong.

The evidence certainly suggests my memory was faulty.

After letting the lump--er, loaf cool out of the pan for about 10 minutes, I sliced off the heel from one end and took a bite, braced for the worst. As heavy as the loaf was, the crust was actually light and pretty tasty. The flavors were balanced so that no one grain overpowered the others. With 10 grains in the mix, the crust had a bit of a nutty flavor and was a little on the sweet side, so it portended good things to come from the rest of the loaf.

Encouraged, I sliced deeper. While the crust was...well, crusty and clearly baked as it should, the heart of the bread was, in essence, raw-looking. See for yourself, Gentle Reader:

This loaf's got no inner beauty.

But here's the thing, Gentle Reader: I'm a sucker for warm, aromatic carbs. And this sick, sad loaf was warm and aromatic, so how could I resist? Even the boys couldn't resist. The bread was pretty good with butter, but the boy and I decided it was best with honey. The husband, however, preferred it with just butter. That loaf was gone in a few hours, as sick and as sad as that is.

We were all saddened by this culinary misadventure, helped along by the negligence of Wanda. To add to the sorrow, the bag of bread mix does not contain enough to attempt another loaf--if Wanda ever gets her ass in gear and gets me those instructions. Bitch.