It might be all right

Last night, as I was despondently eating a bowl of pasta to try and make myself feel better about my bread failure, M had a perfectly sensible suggestion, although I was resistant to it. "Why don't you just stir the salt in now?" he asked. I tried to explain to him that I didn't that it would be possible to integrate it well enough into the dough, which had already been in the refridgerator for two hours. He insisted that I really didn't know what the result of that would be, whereas I knew for a fact that saltless bread would be awful and cardboardy. So we turned the cold dough out onto the cutting board. It was stuck to the cloth and had developed a sort of skin where it sat against the fabric. I was not hopeful, but I attempted to hand knead in 10g of salt. I'm not sure how well I succeeded, and by the end of it the dough was loose and sticking like crazy to the board. But I managed to scrape it back into it's basket with the right quantity of salt at least contained within its mass. Time will tell. It's out of the fridge now, and in four hours I'll bake it and know the result.