Baking with a Purpose
When I bake bread, I don’t do it just for the bread. I do it as a skill I can grow into, a science I can appreciate, a connection to people long past, and as a way of sharing my love and hopes for friends and family. What’s your “small good thing?” An activity you can participate in regularly that helps fill some slots of purpose for you.
There is a lot of great bread out there these days. You can even buy it at a decent price at your regular grocery stores and most stores add it the artisan varieties to boot. So you might wonder why I block out five hours to stay at home each week to make my own home-made honey whole wheat bread. The answer to that puzzle is simple: I don’t bake the bread just for the bread.
I know that might sound a bit mystical or pretentious, but in this case, that’s really the best way I can describe it. Don’t get me wrong—eating freshly baked bread that I’ve labored to make including a fair amount of physical exertion as anybody who has properly kneaded two loved wheat bread will attest is a very nice and tasty thing. But beyond just eating the bread and enjoying the wholesome and filling food, baking bread also fills a lot of other important slots in my life.
Achievement matters to me. I’ve tried my darndest to beat that out of me because for me, it translates into me feeling a strong need to live up to other people’s expectations and me being a bit of a people pleaser. Growing up, , if I was totally honest with myself, my teacher’s approval meant more to me than what I was supposed to be learning by getting top marks on papers and tests. Baking bread that I eat myself gives me a perfect chance to do my best at something that really can only please and be measured by myself. Even though I’ve been baking weekly bread for the last several years, almost every week, I refine things slightly or hone my kneading techniques just a bit. That those often lead to slight improvements in the outcome in the bread. And that feels good even though no one is there to give me a gold star for that effort.
Another component of baking bread that I love is the science behind it. Think of it for a second: bread is about has fundamental of a food product as it gets as far as human consumption goes. Some of the techniques might have changed and our ovens might have advanced over the years, but the same principles that the ancient Egyptians used to bake their bread are still in use today. Combine warm water with active yeast, add something for the yeast to feed on, and add flour. Set the dough aside for the yeast to work its magic, beat down the dough and let it rise again in pans. And then bake. It’s shockingly simple really. The recipe I use has five ingredients, water, yeast, honey, salt, and flour. In a neat way the basic nature of the bread makes me feel connected to ancestors and civilizations from millennia before. And can I just add whoever connected yeast which is a single-celled organism that I certainly wouldn’t have though to throw in with my flour with bread was a genius who we should all be very grateful for. I enjoy some flatbreads too, but thank goodness we have leavening!
There’s also something special in giving bread to others. Breaking bread with someone carries an almost sacred connotation in it’s importance and significance in connection. One of Raymond Carver’s characters calls bread, “a small good thing.” I’d imagine the feeling I get in giving a loaf of bread to a family would be similar to giving a hand-knitted scarf. The fact that I’m able to give something I made brings a certain level of satisfaction but the fact that the gift will have a use beyond the giving of the gift means so much more. Like scarves that the giver can think about keeping a loved one warm, I can think about the receiver being nourished by my efforts.
So what’s your “small good thing?” It certainly doesn’t have to be baking bread or knitting scarves. What activities can you do regularly that are meaningful for you that help fill some slots of purpose for you. I’d love to hear all about them!