At Peace with Myself: One Loaf at a Time
I love making bread. It’s really quite an intangible sensation for me. The labour that goes into it. The hours spent waiting for the dough to rise, and then more time waiting on the proofing. It’d be so much easier just to buy some from a good bakery. But the process is worth it.
It started innocuously enough. Maybe 10 years ago I was trapped in the house during a particularly harsh snow storm which dumped 15 inches of snow on the ground. Like a fool, I had moved the snow blower to the back of the garage, and now my car was in the way so I couldn’t take the snow blower out to clear the snow. And I couldn’t move my car because, well, there were 15 inches of snow blocking its path. It sucked.
So I had no choice but to manually shovel the driveway. And I had 200 feet of it, on a hill, and before I could even get to the driveway, there was a 500 sq. ft. parking pad in the way. I was no spring chicken even back then, so it took me three days of shoveling to get it cleared. And on either side of the driveway were left snowbanks eight feet tall.
So what was I to do for the three days when I was stuck in the house? I decided to make bread. Never done it before, but thanks to the magic of the internet, I kinda figured it out. And I’ve been making bread ever since.
I should say I’m no expert baker. Hell, I don’t even have the right machines like mixers and such. And definitely no bread machine. Because of that, I started out doing it manually, and soon discovered that I actually really enjoyed the process!
Let me tell you first that I am horrible when it comes to following instructions. Recipes, for me, are no more than suggestions. Measurements? Hell, eyeballing is good enough for me. People tell me you shouldn’t dick around with measurements when it comes to baking stuff. Do I listen? Of course not. I mix volumes and weights (you know, like cups and kgs), but I figure it’s close enough for government work.
Why do I enjoy baking so much? It’s the creativity involved. It’s not following recipes. It’s the trial and error. It’s so refreshing. I do that with cooking as well, but because making bread takes so long, the fun lasts longer. Maybe try sprouted whole grain flour one day, and rye the next. Maybe throw some coffee in there and see what happens. Or add a pound of cheddar in there and see how it goes. I tell you, the fun never ends! Seriously.
I just started a dough this afternoon. I have coffee in it. Walnuts. Hazelnuts. Pecan. And I add some cocoa as well. And for good measure, I throw in some whole-grain bulgur. We’ll see how it goes. It’s not so much the planning, for I hardly do any. It’s the kind of last-minute idea that allows me to experiment with this and that. Doing this, I find it has meditative qualities. Like I go into an entirely different zone. Not that I know anything about meditation, mind. I’m not one who does much of this activity through inactivity stuff. I’d rather lift weights for an hour than meditate for 15 minutes, if you know what I mean. Not that I’d lift weights for an hour either. To each his own, eh?
As I said, I ain’t no expert baker. I still don’t have all the right tools or machinery. And I still eyeball the ingredients. But if you are looking to try something different, something that takes your mind off your regular upheavals in life, give baking a shot. I do the no-kneading stuff, so it’s not even a lot of physical work. In the process, I find a peace that often eludes me. And at the end of it all, there’s bread fresh from the oven. What’s not to love?
