Tracy S. Morris

Quirky Mysteries, Screwball Fantasy and Sassy History

The Staff of Life

Written By: Tracy - Nov• 06•12

My grandma used to call bread “the staff life.” Despite the fact that we lived on a farm in the Ozarks, she liked to take a few shortcuts. By the time I came along, milk, bread, and chicken came from the grocery store. Maybe store bought bread made it easier to have a few slices with every meal.

So I can’t really explain my obsession with bread baking. Maybe because it seems kind of mystical to me. There are so many variables that affects the way bread turns out. Temperature, humidity, time of year, or whether you sacrificed a goat or danced on one foot while you were kneading the bread.

No wonder bakers were able to organize themselves into guilds. They “secrets” of making bread do seem magical.

My latest obsession comes with its own little box. That is to say: a Pullman loaf. (A.k.a pain de mie. Despite the name, this kind of bread wasn’t a pain at all).

The obsession came because this summer, Husby, Lil’ Bit And I were the guests in the home where our hostess proudly showed off her bread baking box.

I like good kitchen gadgets. Why knead dough when you have a stand mixer? (I never liked playing with play dough as a kid either.) Why roll out noodle dough when you have a pasta roller? I’m no snob or purist, nor could i ever be accused of being Amish. Energy-saving gadgets were invented for reason.

So when I saw that little box for making bread my thought was ooooooh shiny!

Cut to my birthday when Husby presented me with a shiny little breadbox. Cut to today, when I am finally getting around to making the Bread.

How is it? I’ll let you know when it cools.

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