rising

A short summary of my week:

Monday, while watching The Great British Bake Off:

Child: Can we bake bread?

Me (knowing it takes time): Yes, on Saturday.

Tuesday, while watching The Great British Bake Off:

Child: Can we bake bread?

Me: Yes, on Saturday.

Wednesday, while watching The Great British Bake Off:

Child: Can we bake bread?

Me: Yes, on Saturday.

Thursday, while watching The Great British Bake Off:

Child: Can we make doughnuts?

Me: I thought you wanted to bake bread!

Her: Oh, yeah. Can we bake bread?

Me: Yes, on Saturday.

Friday, while watching The Great British Bake Off:

Child: Can we bake bread?

Me: Yes, tomorrow.

This morning, first thing.

Child: Can we bake bread?

Me: Let me get out of bed first.

Child: Can we bake bread?

Me: (stepping out of the bathroom having just taken a shower) Let me get dressed first.

Child: Can we bake bread?

Me (with dripping hair, slightly exasperated): Yes.

Child: So, what do we do?

* * *

When was the last time you made bread from scratch? I’ve done it before, but it’s been awhile. There’s something simple and primal about baking bread—mixing the ingredients and kneading the dough. It’s more of care of temperature and proportion than anything else.

It was interesting to show her all the little techniques—how to measure dry ingredients and liquid ones differently, how to stir and pour away from your body so it doesn’t get all over you, how to knead dough.

She especially liked the last one—eight to ten minutes of playdough, basically. She smiled as she did it, saying it was fun.

But I realized how much of baking is by feel rather than anything else. How the dough feels in your hands and what the temperatures of the yeast and everything else are.

Baking bread is also a lot of hurry up and wait. It requires only simple ingredients, and not that much technique once the dough is assembled. But we’re on about the fourth hour of rising as I write this. Soon, it will be just about time to bake. The oven’s preheating.

Frankly, whether or not it turns out well doesn’t matter. I learned a few things.

First, I take bread for granted—it’s something you pick up at the store along with veg and milk. Here locally, there’s a bakery that grows its own wheat, grinds it, and bakes the most amazing breads and other baked goods. But even that feels separate—we just buy the fruits of their labor.

Spending the day today with dough under my nails and the scent of yeast in the air certainly gave me a renewed appreciation for doing something the old-fashioned way from scratch.

Is there something that takes time that you haven’t done but want to do? Take the time to do it.

Second, it was cute to see how my child behaved like baking bread was the same thing as getting to open presents on Christmas morning. When’s the last time I felt that excited about anything?

Is there something that gets you out of bed like that? If not, go find it.

And third, there’s something comforting about working with your hands. Dough, like sculpture, needs touch. We all do, I think.

When’s the last time you did something tactile?

So, my recommendation is to find something with steps, something that takes time to do. And let yourself do it. Preferably with someone enthusiastic and younger than you. It might lighten your heart.

Mine sure rose like the bread.