So I mentionned making sour dough last week. It was yummy oatmeal sourdough bread, but I wanted to make something different. I've been doing some research, and figured out that my sourdough sponge could be used to make french baguette's and foccacia. So today, that was my endeavor...Mmmm, the kitchen smells good and the bread tastes fantastic.
I love working with bread dough. There's just something so satisfying about making bread, of kneading it, watching it rise, shaping it, and then baking it. Something comforting about doing something that so many men and women have done for so long. In some ways, it makes me feel closer to family from years gone by...The bread pans I use to make my buttermilk sandwich bread were passed on to me by my grandmother, and she says she received them from her mother, my great grandmother. I love thinking of both these women, going through the same motions as me, to provide nourishment for their families. The pans are worn, and dented, and even have a couple of wholes in them, and while I do own some newer bread pans, these are the ones I use and cherish most.
I've been reading the Little House on the Prairie series to Simeon. Making bread makes me think of Ma and Laura making bread so regularly. Creates a special bond...peculiar, I know, but satisfying and comforting at the same time. Sure, I could go and buy the bread at the grocery store, it would save me time and energy, but then I wouldn't have the satisfaction of making it, nor the satisfaction of people appreciating my hardwork.
The more I learn about the art of breadmaking, the more I realize that its an art, a science. It's a way for me to exercise some creative energy and at the same time, use my mind for something other than teaching simple arithmatic and reading. It's a challenge, and one that I thoroughly enjoy.
So...if you are ever down this way, let me know, I'll make sure to have some fresh homemade bread, some homemade jam and a nice cup of tea, or lemonade...we can have an old fashioned visit, and appreciate the simple pleasures of yesteryear.