This maple parmesan beer bread requires no yeast or rising and you get delicious bread at home in an hour.
Wednesday night, I’m driving home from dinner with Brandy (who forced me to try her beef tongue appetizer and then 2 seconds later after I had choked it down proclaimed “I can see the taste buds!” as she cut it into pieces on her plate. Barf.) and thinking about how I really want to make this beer bread the next day. I run through the ingredients in my head and I have everything except…the beer. I’m tempted to just drive home and run out to the store the following day because it’s late and I’m tired but I tell myself “no, you’ll regret that later” (do internal dialogues with yourself get quotations in writing? Whatever.) So I pull into a gas station mini-mart.
It’s 11:04pm, I’ve been up since 5:30am, my eyeliner is smudged, my hair is starting to grease to my head, my clothes are a wrinkled mess and I walk straight to the beer cooler.
And then I actually wondered why the cashier stared at me like I had 5 heads when I went to pay and didn’t automatically hand over my ID. Oh, you want ID? I can’t imagine why when I look like I just got run over by a truck and am purchasing one sole 40oz. bottle of beer at 11 o’clock at night.
I drove home for the next 10 minutes practicing what I’d say to a cop if I got pulled over and asked what was in that brown paper bag on the passenger seat. “Oh, this officer? That’s just a 40oz. bottle of Sam Adams. It’s for a recipe. I’m making beer bread tomorrow!” Totally believable.
Luckily, no traffic stops ensued. Mr. Adams and I made it home safely.
Beer bread is just awesome in so many ways.
2. No yeast and rising required.
3. Your kitchen smells like a combo of a bakery + brewery while it’s baking.
This one is part sweet (but just barely), part salty (but just barely) and oh, so good with some softened butter and honey or even dipped into a nice big pot of chili. Your call. Just make sure you have your bottle of beer before 11pm the night before.