I decided to knead this dough by hand, because hand kneading seemed like the appropriate choice on a sunny Sunday in the kitchen. Two minutes in, my hands looked like B-movie monsters and I was muttering to myself, “I can’t wait to have roommates, because roommates will talk me about of doing things like this when I have a $300 mixer on the counter.” Twelve minutes in, everything was perfect. There is very little in life–my life, at any rate–as satisfying as feeling dough come together beneath your hands. Also, hand-kneading is almost like going to the gym. Right? Right.
(Just so you know, I put a yet another slice in my thumb with my deceptively badass bread knife before taking that picture. $12 knives should not be that capable.)