Mixed everything — flour, salt, oil — and yeah, the dough got super sticky.

Hands, fingers, watch, even the countertop… covered in flour.

I panicked for a second, then just kept kneading.

After 10–12 mins, it turned soft and stretchy — like a stress ball that finally listened.

Felt so good to see it come together.

Apparently, in France, real baguettes can only have flour, yeast, salt, and water.

No milk, no butter, nothing.

That simplicity made me love this even more. Bread that pure — wow.

I oiled the bowl, covered it with a towel, and left it near the window.

Told myself I’d clean the mess. Ended up watching cricket highlights instead. Typical me.

An hour later — holy moly — it doubled in size! It looked like a cloud.

I almost didn’t want to punch it down… but that pffft sound was too good to skip.

Rolled the dough like a log, made three slits with a knife.

Forgot to preheat the oven once — never again

Set it to 220°C, baked for around 25 minutes.

Then came the smell.

You know that bakery smell that makes your stomach growl? That one. My kitchen had it.

When I pulled it out — golden crust, crispy, sounded hollow when tapped.

Cut a slice — crack! — steam came out. Spread butter. It melted instantly.

Took the first bite.

Bro… heaven.

I literally said, “No way I made this!” out loud.