Imagine your June
2020 self travels back in time a few months to meet your March 2020
self. June passes March a jar of sour-dough starter.
'Here, you'll find
this useful,' says June.
March stares at it
in bewilderment. 'Why?'
'Trust me,' says
June. 'Oh, and here's a recipe for banana bread. You're gonna need
that, too.'
During this
pandemic, it feels like everyone's been baking bread.
We began the
lockdown with a tried and trusted recipe for soda bread - my
husband's Irish and developed a good recipe years ago. It's delicious
when fresh, especially with cream cheese and smoked salmon (if we
happen to have those in the house). We love it toasted too. His
recipe uses buttermilk, a mixture of flours - plain white, wholemeal
and malted - and he adds pumpkin seeds and linseeds to it.
We also have a
breadmaker we've used on and off in bursts of enthusiasm over the
years. With both grown-up sons staying with us for the duration, we
realised we'd need a lot of bread, so why not dust it off and use it?
Favourite recipe is based on a French bread recipe from the
instruction booklet, but uses a mix of flour including malted flour.
Back in late March
and early April, there was a Great Flour Shortage across the UK. With
everyone baking, the flour mills, while they were producing enough,
weren't able to quickly switch from packing it in large sacks for
commercial use to the 1.5kg bags sold in supermarkets. We especially
struggled to find our favourite malted flour and in desperation my
husband eventually ordered a large quantity of it online.
Yeast too was a
problem. Its street value rose to more than that of cocaine at one
time. I posted a lament on Facebook about our lack of it and ended up
with two friends posting me some and another local friend telling me
that a nearby deli stocked it. (This deli was also selling flour
bought by the sack and repackaged into small paper carrier bags to
sell to the public. Life-saver!)
And then there was
the sour-dough. I need to make a confession here - it is not me who
makes any of these breads. In fact I've never made a loaf in my life.
My husband and I don't follow a traditional split of pink jobs versus
blue jobs - he does the food shopping and most of the cooking; while
I mow the lawn and put the bins out. So I am writing here from a
point of view of near-ignorance in all things baking-related.
In the absence of a
time-travelling June self visiting us in March, we did not have a
sour-dough starter, so my husband watched Youtube videos to discover
how to make his own. Apparently you only need flour and water, though
he did invest in some special jars.
For weeks now, my
husband's alternated between using the breadmaker, making soda bread
and making sour-dough. The breadmaker just requires you to chuck in
the ingredients and press a button: three hours later it's done. Soda
bread is quick too - turn oven on to preheat, mix ingredients, whack
the dough on a baking tray, slash the top 'to let the fairies out'
and bake. But the sour-dough takes all day. Mix, knead, prove,
stretch, fold - God knows; I keep well away from it all! Tastes good,
though.
This is a writing
blog and I've been talking in a rather uninformed way about
bread-making. So I'll round off with a (slightly tortured) analogy to
bring it back to writing. Making sour-dough bread is like writing a
novel. You need a starter - an idea. You can't use that immediately -
it needs to ferment for a while, and you must gather other
ingredients. You need to mix it all up, creating the dough - writing
the first draft. It must prove for a while - put the novel aside
before you attempt to edit it. You'll need to stretch, fold and
reshape it. Eventually you must commit: put the dough in the oven;
send the novel to your publisher. The baking process is the publisher
giving the book a cover and blurb, turning it into something enticing
that people will want to read/want to eat. And then you just hope
that all your hard work pays off and people will enjoy your finished
product!
I love your analogy!
ReplyDeleteWe were never short of flour or yeast here, though I could only get caster sugar in a far larger quantity than I'll need. My writing is a bit like that, too...
We had no yeast in supermarkets for weeks! Flour was hit and miss - get there after a delivery and there'd be some. Impossible to order online for delivery from the supermarkets.
DeleteThis is great! I love that you and your hubs don't divide the jobs into pink and blue.
ReplyDeleteMainly happened because I hate cooking and he really enjoys it!
DeleteLove the analogy, Kath. So true!
ReplyDeleteha, thanks!
DeleteSo envious of your homemade bread, Kath. My mouth is watering at the thought of it all! We haven't had yeast in the supermarket for weeks, so I've made cake instead! Think Marie Antoinette would have approved.😂
ReplyDeleteMy son's been baking cakes and cookies - love them but my waistline doesn't!
DeleteGreat post, Kath.
ReplyDeleteI went through a phase of making bread years ago, but the oven in this house doesn't really work properly and I haven't bothered getting it fixed due to the fact that it runs on bottled gas. (Meh. Such a faff!) Besides, French bread is sooooooo nice straight from la boulangerie, it would be weird to make my own.
I'm detecting this is a comment from Jennie (it says Unknown) - yes in France there is no point making your own bread with boulangeries in every village. Love French bread!
DeleteI HATE posts like these!!!
ReplyDeleteActually this in not true - I LOVE posts like this - I love baking; there's something deeply satisfying about working with flour and yeast!!
It's my waistline that ACTUALLY hates it! LOL We have avoided getting a bread machine - it's just TOO EASY!! I mean, it's not as if I need to put any more weight on!! xx *wipes away drool*
My waistline suffers more from the cookies and cakes and brownies my son makes. I have to look away when he weighs out the sugar and butter...
DeleteSo that's where all the flour went! I confess to not having made a single loaf during lockdown .... am I excommunicated?
ReplyDeleteHa! No. Left to my own devices I wouldn't have, either. This is all the husband's doing.
Delete