04/08/2023

Bread and Butter

As a self-proclaimed home-baking extraordinaire, I have a confession; I have always loathed breadmaking.

In 2020, when everyone and their mother had rekindled some deep longing to start making sourdough, I busied myself with pineapple upside-down cakes and Victoria sponges. The pong of a starter, the razor-sharp accuracy required for loaf designs, and the fashionable pastel-coloured Dutch ovens lined with parchment paper filling my Instagram feed did not resonate, for I knew better. Bread and I were not strangers to one another. We had a complicated, crummy, past.

Any Australian who has tried to eat Vegemite on toast on an unfortunate piece of Nature’s Own can attest that fresh bread is the way to go, especially in the US. However, even with a breadmaker, I managed to create loaves that looked like a squashed hobbit's toe. That smug white walker, Paul Hollywood, taunted me whenever I watched Bake Off. I could hear his Scouse accent in my head, saying things like “it’s over proved,” and “you've under kneaded the dough,” if I so much as looked at a bag of bread flour in the supermarket. To be honest, I couldn’t tell you if either of these things were ever the problem with my bread. As far as I could see it, I was not made for the science that it took to be any good at breadmaking.

This July, I decided to face my bread demons. A friend of ours had recently fixed the brakes on our cursed Chevy and I wanted to bake him something as a thank-you. With the pantry in desperate need of restocking, I decided to make use of what I had; an impulse purchase of high-end bread flour, tucked away in the very back and a neglected sharp cheddar that I couldn't stand to see go off. I fished out our weathered secondhand copy of Better Homes and Gardens Best Bread Machine Recipes and, to my delight, found a cheese bread recipe. Perhaps it was a stroke of madness or just the result of not wanting to drag myself to Aldi on a Saturday, either way, I was giving it a hopeful crack.

I followed the instructions carefully at first, then (true to my Piscean nature) decided to take some artistic liberties. I set the bread machine to dough and confidently told Justice, “I’m going to play with this recipe a bit.” He eyed me nervously, knowing my track record with bread, and pointedly asked, “Isn’t that the last of the cheese?” 

I decided to risk such high stakes.

There were undoubtedly some teething problems with the cheese bread. A burnt bottom, for starters. The plait I decided to go with as a flourish made it hard to tell if the damn thing was cooked through. And there was a near miss on the second proof, but nonetheless, I completed my mission.

I waited with bated breath that following Monday to hear what our friend and his wife thought of the loaf. To my surprise, it was a delicious success. 

In the days that followed, I began to question where this belief that I sucked at making bread came from. Was it a few bad loaves back? Or did I simply want to skip the learning part of getting good at something? It certainly felt like the latter.

How many of us avoid trying something new because we don’t want to look foolish? It’s easier to dismiss something as “not for us” when we aren’t being vulnerable and willing to learn from our failures. There’s no risk of embarrassment if you don’t try at all, right? 

Well, as I’ve come to learn, that’s a bloody boring way to live. The best experiences are the ones we throw ourselves into with no expectations and manage to laugh at ourselves along the way, no matter the final outcome. If you can find a way to see your journey as an opportunity to push yourself out of your comfort zone and find new ways to learn and grow, there’s no way you can actually fail. True failure comes from refusing to change and being unwilling to try something new.

Learning to love breadmaking has been a humbling journey for me. I am by no means keen to open a bakery or become a master sourdough maker, but I have happily found a comfortable stride. I can successfully whip up a cob loaf or some wholemeal bread without a hitch now. 

This month, I encourage you to be brave and willing to make mistakes. Fumble your way through something! See the lightness of learning through action. I can assure you, you’ll come out of it feeling enriched (pun definitely intended).

Food For Thought

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“Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.”
―Mahatma Gandhi