BREAD OF HAPPINESS

IT WAS SOMEWHERE IN THE MID-SIXTIES that I realized I could make a loaf of bread that was as good as anything I had ever tasted.  I remember it being potato bread in which I used some leftover mashed potatoes.  It has a nice crumb and made quite memorable toast. Then there was a long hiatus in my bread-making activities until somewhere in the seventies when I discovered this book put out by some Buddhist (I think) monks in California that described how they made their bread by a triple rising method. Bread making Buddhist monks in California - let's see, should that be one long word?  Anyway, I thought I could set myself apart from the regular heard of bread makers by using this method.  This ultimately proved to be a bit too involved to enjoy the process so I ditched that method, and moved on to the regular main-stream Pillsbury Cook Book for my bread making.

Note:  Bread making is not some arcane mystery known only to your great aunt, bakers with foreign sounding names and bald headed monks in California.  It's simple chemistry 101.  If you have flour, yeast and water you can make bread.  A touch of salt might help, as well as some oil or butter and perhaps a dollop of something sweet.  If you want to hide some leftover meatloaf or vegetable salad, that can be worked into the dough as well.  Very few things make me feel like I have actually done something good as making a loaf of bread - with my hands.  I have a trendy bread machine with a difficult to pronounce name, which, I think is supposed to impress me.  It makes a credible loaf.  I don't even have to wash my hands.  However, getting my hands in the dough is a whole other world of bread making.

Once, in another lifetime, I was working in a mental health clinic that ran what was called a Day Hospital.  it was a program where people who were usually on some potent psychotropic medications could spend the day and have community and do some occupational therapy activities.  It was popular with these people.

I got a phone call from the woman who ran that unit and she said she heard that I made bread - with my hands.  Yes, she added those last three words.  I said I did and I washed my hands thoroughly every time.  She asked me if I would consider teaching the people in Day Hospital how to make a loaf of bread. Yippee, I said.  That sounds like fun.  Great, she said, when can you come over and meet them - about ten of them?  Tomorrow?  Done.

Well, here's what happened.   I think there were about eight of those people who wanted to participate.  There was a completely outfitted kitchen in the unit and we met there every day for a week.  These were all women, none of whom had ever tried to make a loaf of bread.  It took me a moment to get past that sad fact.

We went through the basic principles of bread making and then we made bread.  We made Anadama bread, which has butter, cornmeal and molasses in it.   Each person varied the ratio of brown to white flour so they could see the difference it made.  Every body got their hands in the dough and before anyone realized it they were all laughing and having the time of their lives.  Well, they were having a good time at that time.  No one was "cured" of anything, but everybody had fun and that is cure enough for most people.