I don’t know what it is about Sundays, but I often wake up unsure and worried on Sunday mornings. If Saturday has been eventful, I’m worried I’ll be less busy and productive, and if it was a lazy Saturday, I’ll feel even more slothful. I’ve learned though, that the first thing that I can do that will take me into a good Sunday is going downstairs, mixing yeast and water, flour and a little butter, and making a loaf of bread.
Something about the smell of bread rising makes me feel like I’m really in the home life: I’m making something hearty to feed the man I love and to nourish myself, and it’s a core ingredient to which will be added vegetables and fruits, meats and cheese. It feels like my most basic building block: if I can make bread in my chemistry lab called a kitchen, I can tackle a Sunday.
Life has been pretty good for a while now – I’ve been out of the hubbub of planning a wedding, and Husband and I have settled into a rhythm of keeping our home at a level of clean that we like. We have all the furniture we need and are actually trying to keep an eye out for things we can get rid of so our house doesn’t become a never-ending pile of the broken things we don’t need any more; we go to the gym for cycling class and we go to work at the local food pantry after work, and we meet friends at local outdoor concerts and we travel to see those we miss and love in other places. I have no reason to be dissatisfied at all.
This isn’t enough, though, to make a melancholy mood leave; I cannot always just will sadness out of my life just because there’s no reason for it to be there. Instead, I’ve found that the physical labor of life works the sadness out of my muscles, like coffee chases away sleepiness. Kneading a yielding blob of dough, punching it down and watching it crust over in the oven: these things get me there. I hope you have something that works for you the same way.
If you would like a great bread recipe that requires no kneading to boot, try out this one and see what you think.