I am currently baking my way through the Bake Off Great British Book of Baking. I have challenged myself to bake everything in that book in order, whatever comes my way, adapting recipes as needed as I go. I finally finished the first section just over a week ago and have moved onto bread.
I've made bread before - my attempts at making bread, however, weren't always successful until I got my standing mixer with that amazing thing called a dough hook. It means I don't have to go through the effort of kneading and the recipe that the mixer came with produces, with minimum effort, the perfect white loaf. A pre-packaged system that works....
However, today I began my second recipe in the Bake Off bread section, and after the perfect white sandwich loaf (which actually turned out reasonably perfect) I am moving on to the poppy seed (well Nigella seed for me, as my local Tesco had no poppy seeds) bloomer..... and rolls (or cobs where I come from). This recipe involves a lot of commitment. I started at 9am this morning (it's now 2:21pm) and in between my admin and planning for the week I have revisited the bread a number of times. It is currently resting for the third time before I have to do something more with it. It is nowhere near being in the oven and calling itself eatable bread yet - it'll be at least another 2 hours before it comes out. When I started, before I read the recipe, I was hoping it was going to be ready for lunch, but instead I had to get crumpets out of the freezer.
I was hoping that I could do what I normally do and simply knead it in the mixer with the fabulous dough hook, however, as it wrapped itself around the head of the dough hook I realised this was not possible - it had got too big, too adventurous - it wanted to make its way out - so I had to knead it by hand.
I, of course, could go to the shop and buy some white sliced - white sliced is good for crisp sandwiches - that quick fix comfort food I turn to in times of heavy grumps.... but the feeling and achievement of making the crisp sandwich doesn't last long and it's not quite the same as a good, home-baked loaf of bread.
The reason why bread takes so long is because it's a bit of a craft - to make it really good, better than the quick fix method of baking (or buying) is a long term commitment to the end product (even if it doesn't turn out well). The yeast needs time to grow the bread. The bread I have made today doesn't even have sugar in to give the yeast that quick burst of energy it needs to get going like the first cup of coffee in the morning.
The dough, once grown, has to be knocked back, because it gets too big for its boots. Bread making is actually quite a painful process. As I opened up the risen dough after four hours this morning and peeled off the cling film, the dough collapsed (as it should do) because it was full of air that didn't need to be there. Then, as I added a new dough, it combined to make something better, something new, something more solid....
Something that could be shaped.
And that's where the dough is now (I paused this blog to play with it a bit more) - it's shaped, ready to go in the oven once it's grown again.... and I have no idea how it is going to turn out.
As I've been making the bread I've been reflecting on church - returning to the principles of Slow Church which have inspired me so much... that to become something good - to become something beautiful - to have that fragrance that makes people want to participate in sharing... that it's like the slow and, at times surprising, and at times painful way in which bread is made that sustainable and long term growth happens.
It's alright going out and getting the white sliced for the crisp sandwich occasionally, because sometimes the quick fix is all we need... but it won't satisfy forever.
It's alright buying a machine with a pre-packaged recipe to create the same loaf of bread every time, but soon that same loaf of bread will become too samey, too old, too familiar, and the surprising nature of Christ centred church community will be lost. The machine will wear out, and as we seek the now defunct parts to the mixer, the possibilities of the old and tired dough becoming bread will be less and less.
Instead, we've got to make space for experimentation, for trying a new way, a different way, a way that works for the kind of bread we are hoping to be - the kind of church we are hoping to become. This might mean sitting at the top of my stairs for 4 hours as we grow slowly and bubble and become something that might bake. This might mean being knocked back and losing some of our energy as we take the hits of the consequences of the change brought about by forward movement. This might mean being open to a new dough that will change us into something else. This might mean being knocked back again and shaped to become who we are called to be.
But it means being there, committed to the process, committed to the commitment, because without commitment, the dough will end up lying flat.
I will, I hope, see my bread baked, possibly by tea time... but with church? We may be the ones who pass through the waiting stage, and we wait a while, not knowing what we will become....or we might pass through the knocking back and feel bruised for a while, wondering what the next stage will bring, but with our eyes on the bigger picture, we might hear one day (or even see it for ourselves) of the joy of the smell of freshly baked bread.
"Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint" Isaiah 40:30-31
I've made bread before - my attempts at making bread, however, weren't always successful until I got my standing mixer with that amazing thing called a dough hook. It means I don't have to go through the effort of kneading and the recipe that the mixer came with produces, with minimum effort, the perfect white loaf. A pre-packaged system that works....
However, today I began my second recipe in the Bake Off bread section, and after the perfect white sandwich loaf (which actually turned out reasonably perfect) I am moving on to the poppy seed (well Nigella seed for me, as my local Tesco had no poppy seeds) bloomer..... and rolls (or cobs where I come from). This recipe involves a lot of commitment. I started at 9am this morning (it's now 2:21pm) and in between my admin and planning for the week I have revisited the bread a number of times. It is currently resting for the third time before I have to do something more with it. It is nowhere near being in the oven and calling itself eatable bread yet - it'll be at least another 2 hours before it comes out. When I started, before I read the recipe, I was hoping it was going to be ready for lunch, but instead I had to get crumpets out of the freezer.
I was hoping that I could do what I normally do and simply knead it in the mixer with the fabulous dough hook, however, as it wrapped itself around the head of the dough hook I realised this was not possible - it had got too big, too adventurous - it wanted to make its way out - so I had to knead it by hand.
I, of course, could go to the shop and buy some white sliced - white sliced is good for crisp sandwiches - that quick fix comfort food I turn to in times of heavy grumps.... but the feeling and achievement of making the crisp sandwich doesn't last long and it's not quite the same as a good, home-baked loaf of bread.
The reason why bread takes so long is because it's a bit of a craft - to make it really good, better than the quick fix method of baking (or buying) is a long term commitment to the end product (even if it doesn't turn out well). The yeast needs time to grow the bread. The bread I have made today doesn't even have sugar in to give the yeast that quick burst of energy it needs to get going like the first cup of coffee in the morning.
The dough, once grown, has to be knocked back, because it gets too big for its boots. Bread making is actually quite a painful process. As I opened up the risen dough after four hours this morning and peeled off the cling film, the dough collapsed (as it should do) because it was full of air that didn't need to be there. Then, as I added a new dough, it combined to make something better, something new, something more solid....
Something that could be shaped.
And that's where the dough is now (I paused this blog to play with it a bit more) - it's shaped, ready to go in the oven once it's grown again.... and I have no idea how it is going to turn out.
As I've been making the bread I've been reflecting on church - returning to the principles of Slow Church which have inspired me so much... that to become something good - to become something beautiful - to have that fragrance that makes people want to participate in sharing... that it's like the slow and, at times surprising, and at times painful way in which bread is made that sustainable and long term growth happens.
It's alright going out and getting the white sliced for the crisp sandwich occasionally, because sometimes the quick fix is all we need... but it won't satisfy forever.
It's alright buying a machine with a pre-packaged recipe to create the same loaf of bread every time, but soon that same loaf of bread will become too samey, too old, too familiar, and the surprising nature of Christ centred church community will be lost. The machine will wear out, and as we seek the now defunct parts to the mixer, the possibilities of the old and tired dough becoming bread will be less and less.
Instead, we've got to make space for experimentation, for trying a new way, a different way, a way that works for the kind of bread we are hoping to be - the kind of church we are hoping to become. This might mean sitting at the top of my stairs for 4 hours as we grow slowly and bubble and become something that might bake. This might mean being knocked back and losing some of our energy as we take the hits of the consequences of the change brought about by forward movement. This might mean being open to a new dough that will change us into something else. This might mean being knocked back again and shaped to become who we are called to be.
But it means being there, committed to the process, committed to the commitment, because without commitment, the dough will end up lying flat.
I will, I hope, see my bread baked, possibly by tea time... but with church? We may be the ones who pass through the waiting stage, and we wait a while, not knowing what we will become....or we might pass through the knocking back and feel bruised for a while, wondering what the next stage will bring, but with our eyes on the bigger picture, we might hear one day (or even see it for ourselves) of the joy of the smell of freshly baked bread.
"Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint" Isaiah 40:30-31
