BC Living
How to Support BC Wineries Now
Embark on Culinary Adventures: 5 Must-Try Solo Dining Experiences Around BC
You Gotta Try this in April 2024
4 Tips on Balancing a Nutritious Diet with a Side of Indulgence
Choosing Connection: A BC Family Day Pledge to Prioritize Presence Over Plans
Embracing Plant-Based Living this Veganuary and Beyond
Inviting the Steller’s Jay to Your Garden
6 Budget-friendly Holiday Decor Pieces
Dream Home: $8 Million for a Modern Surprise
7 BC Retreats Where Solo Travellers Can Find Inner Peace and Wellness
Protected: Spring into Fun in Kamloops: The Best Events in the City
Travel Light, Travel Right: Minimalist Packing Tips for Solo Explorers
BC Distilled
Melodies and Museums: Solo-Friendly Entertainment for the Independent Traveller
Arts Club Theatre Company Celebrates 60 Years
8 Gadgets and Gear for Your Solo Adventures
A Solo Traveller’s Guide to Souvenir Hunting in BC
Sḵwálwen Botanicals – Changing the Face of Skincare
To make good bread at home, be prepared to get dirty and have fun.
Home-made whole wheat loaves
Recently, thanks to an inspirational evening with Marco Ropke (from the new Pastry Training Centre of Vancouver) and an equally inspirational visit with Heather Campbell on Salt Spring Island, I’ve once again tried my hand again at baking bread.
In the past my bread efforts have been “solid”, with a thick biscuit-like crust. I’d already attributed this to the fact that I didn’t have a wood-fire oven or fresh yeast, but both Marco and Heather commented that one of the most common mistakes among home bread makers (e.g., you and me) is that they add too much flour, resulting in a hard, biscuity dough.
Once I’d seen the consistency of Chef Ropke’s dough I knew that this was my problem (or at least one of them). To begin with, the dough is almost a thick paste – it sticks to everything. But slowly, as you knead it, the bonds start to form and eventually the surface becomes smooth and springy.
Since my epiphany I have eschewed our bread-making machine, and ignored my kitchen aid’s pleas to be allowed to knead the dough for me. With the wetter dough, the kneading process is much more enjoyable. The dough feels alive (which it is thanks to the yeast) and it bounces and stretches and schlurps as I roll it around the counter. .
My second epiphany was that bread making isn’t as time intensive as I’d always believed. True It’s a while from start to finish, but most of that is inactive time. The active time to measure out the ingredients and knead the dough is fairly minimal. In fact, in terms of “active” time, it probably takes more to walk to the baker’s and buy that it does to do it myself.
And because I’m a word nerd here’s a little bonus for you: The words “lord” and “lady” come from the Old English words for “loaf keeper” (hláfweard) and “loaf kneader” (hláfdige). Goes to show the vital role that bread played in communities pre-wonderbread.