Solace in the kitchen

November 13, 2016

Oatmeal wheat bread, with flax seed. From probably the 1960s.

Oatmeal wheat bread, with flax seed. From probably the 1960s.

When the world turns upside down, as it did last week (yes, I’m a Clinton supporter, and yes, I’ve been mourning the election results since late Tuesday night, and doing some fervent praying), one looks for comfort wherever one can find it.

Tuesday night and into the wee hours of Wednesday morning, I looked for it in a bottle of wine (good wine, too!). It helped temporarily. Wednesday I licked my wounds, Thursday I worked, and Friday I betook myself to the kitchen.

Making bread is tremendously theraputic. I had found a recipe my Mama clipped out of the newspaper, Lord only knows how long ago, and had put it aside to try it. Friday was the day.

The recipe Mama saved from the paper.

The recipe Mama saved from the paper.

Here’s the recipe:

I halved it, because it looked like a tremendous amount of bread, more than I needed or wanted. And indeed, half the recipe made two 8 x 4 1/2 loaves.  Other than that, I went exactly by the recipe, but for the fact I went looking for wheat germ, and could not find it. Mr. Google, however, told me I could substitute flaxseed meal for it, and I did that.

This is a good, hearty bread. Slightly sweet — much less sweet, in fact, than I would have expected, and with little molasses-y taste. It makes primo toast. It appears to be sturdy enough to make a sandwich. I think it will be divine with a poached egg atop it.

Don’t remember Mama ever making it — she didn’t make bread, much — but I’m awfully glad she saved it. I won’t make it an awful lot, but it’s a good change of pace. And it did my soul good to spend some time connected to her.

As my Memphis  guinea pig was on hand this weekend, I took advantage of his presence to cook lots of things I wanted to try but Child A will not even think about eating. We had beef tartare Friday night, with scallops, cheeses and pickles and olives. I thought about cooking shrimp, but thought we had enough food. More good stuff Saturday and today, which I’ll detail in future posts.

Meanwhile, you ‘n y’mama ‘n ’em either pick up and go on, or celebrate your win, whichever is applicable. But remember — you can do either one without trampling on the humanity of the folks who feel the other way.

 

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2 Responses to “Solace in the kitchen”

  1. Sharon Younger Says:

    Hadn’t thought about using when the world turns to describe our predicament

  2. kayatthekeyboard Says:

    Oh, I’ve felt like Cornwallis at Yorktown for the past week.


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