Jodi Hills

So this is who I am – a writer that paints, a painter that writes…


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Brioche.

I picked the low hanging fruit.  To get those only reachable by magpies, I got the ladder from the garpeachesage.  I filled my basket, leaving the two half eaten peaches on the branch for those who had started.  Google had taught me, as she so often does, to boil the peaches for 45 seconds then shock them in cold water, and the skin peels right off.  She’s right. I added the cut up peaches with the sugar (just regular sugar because we were out of the sucre pour confitures, and Google assured me that someone’s aunt uses just regular sugar and it’s fine, and she’s French… good enough for me) into the large boiling pot, with a speck of water and a little vanilla, because that’s how I roll.  There’s boiling and stirring and more stirring and boiling.  A little skimming.  This is the patience part.  I have learned some of the best tasting foods require our time more than anything.  Both in preparation and consumption.  I pause here, seems needed.  Glass jars are boiled.  The peachy goodness, which has turned the most lovely shade of, well, peach is slowly and carefully added to the jars, and as we say now, voilà!  Google informs me, that a lovely brioche would go so well with the jam.  Yes, why not brioche!  I mix up the flour and eggs and salt, sugar and yeast.  Knead it gently with my hands, then start adding the butter.  A lot of butter.  Did I mention there’s a lot of butter?  It takes about 20 minutes to fold in the cup of butter with your hands.  Your husband may ask, as mine did, “Why don’t you just use the machine?”  “Google,” I say.  All is understood.  I cover it with oil, because apparen20180630_180249tIy the mound of butter isn’t enough, and let it rise for the hour it needs.  Taking this time to jump in the pool.  Oh, summer!  Now it’s time to deflate and cool the dough.  Then back to the pool.  After it’s cooled, (me and the dough) I search the cupboards for what may or may not be brioche baking pans, roll the dough into balls and let rise again.  After baking for 30 minutes, we are now back to voilà!  During this time, the French football (soccer) team has played along in our perfect Saturday, and wins the game.  What better way to celebrate than with freshly baked brioche, served with peachy peach jam (confiture de peches).

Is it simple, or simply magic?  I will choose magic, every time.  Voilà!