A Pullman Bread Loaf Pan

Well, the never ending Covid-19 quarantine is still in effect. I think I have a handle on making French bread so I ordered a nifty 'Pullma' loaf pan I found online. Tried it out and it made the cutest sandwich square loaf. And it tasted pretty good too!

French bread

Dough for the Pullman loaf

Greased and rising for two hours

Rising in a warm place (my kitchen's cold)

Fresh out of the oven

Cooling on a rack

Ready to toast!

Set off the smoke detector!

So, having retired early right into a pandemic has left me with plenty of home-alone time. There was a long 'recovery' time for purging work trauma out of my system and then a release of the guilt of 'not doing something constructive' every single day to erase. A lot of my time now is seeing just how many 'Nailed It' moments I could create in an oven that has a mind of its own when it comes to following recipe set temperatures and a smoke detector with an itchy trigger finger! I'm running out of nerves to fray. I'm still working on bread. And pastries and muffins and cup cakes. Hell, I'm always crossing my fingers when I get that blast of hot air when I open the squeaky oven door and slide in that first batch.

Today's attempt was a Pinterest recipe my wee sister and  I agreed to try. She can tell her own story. I have one solitary photo of the original attempt that luckily didn't deter me from trying again - with the right dough this time!

So, I think I've just started a routine of documenting some (if I remember the camera) of my steps from failure or success. Hopefully more successes than failures although they can be entertaining in their own right.  So first. The first attempt then a few of the 'steps' of today's go at it.

Above is the original attempt - before I realized there is a big difference between Philo Pastry and Puff Pastry. These were a crumpled mess in my compost bag when I remembered I was supposed to show my sister how successful I was. I had to dig them out, flatten out the parchment (that I actually used) and half-assedly re-assemble them in order to shoot them.

Armed with the correct dough I began again. But was unable to 'unfold' the bloody dough despite every attempt. So, I McGuyvered it and just rolled out this lump until it reached the 13" measurement with as much sugar to press into it as I could (as per instructions?). 

Got it folded up, cut into sections. How big is 3/8"s? Not what I cut, that's for sure!

Got them to stand on the 'edge', sort of, where all the sugar immediately sloughed off and pooled around their ankles. *sigh* Not letting that deter me, I slid the pan (parchment paper? who needs that...) in the 450 degree oven and walked away. About 7 minutes later the smoke detector is shooting off its gun like there's an inferno in the kitchen instead of just a little smoking sugar. My heart is going off like a drumline drum-off in my throat!

Having gotten the screaming claxon siren under control with the kitchen hair dryer that is always plugged in at the ready just for this kind of scenario, I, with shaking hands pulled these beauties out of the bastard oven I hate. 

The recipe says I should yield between 18 and 22 'cookies'. I managed to make 9. Nine! All that anxiety and near-death experience for nine pastries??? I think I need to figure out how big 3/8" is - pretty sure it's three times thinner than what I cut.

Will I try making these again? Does anyone know how to disconnect a smoke detector?