Baking as spiritual practice
Last night I made Pumpkin Nut Bread for my Northeast Circle church potluck tonight. This is meaningful to me for several reasons: it's a fall tradition/favorite in my family, my mother amuses me, baking is a fascinating process, and I'm taking a traditional seasonal favorite from my family (of origin) to share with my spiritual community.
A few weeks ago, the Young Adults' group from my church had a fall picnic, where we celebrated the advent of the season. At this picnic, we carved two large pumpkins. After Halloween, my mother and I baked and pureed the pumkin, which yielded us enough to make all the pumpkin stuff we desired this fall. I had a craving for Pumpkin Nut Bread, which I remember vividly smelling baking and waiting impatiently for it to cool, only to sneak a warn slice off to have with tea. Typically, when I asked to make the bread, she handed me a recipe kept from the label of a can of Libby's pureed pumpkin mostly likely purchased 20 or so years ago, maybe longer. Anytime I ask my mother for a recipe, she has to get out her stack of favorites and leaf through labels cut off of packages, or through a little notebook of "family" recipes copied so long ago and so well used that the pages are semi-transparent. I recopied them into another notebook for her years ago, but I suspect that she still uses that notebook, which she keeps in one of those plastic Troll book pack keepers folded over to make it waterproof. My mother is naturally amusing in many ways.
The recipe itself is an interesting one, changing textures seamlessly and many times, like all the best recipes do. I suppose that between my fascination with chemistry and the warm memories of my mother baking as a child (a tradition I carry on to the best of my ability), the act of sifting dry ingredients into wet ones and mixing (by stirring with my own hands/arms, of course) while noticing the texture changes necessary before I add the next ingredients feels magical to me. When I'm happy or stressed (especially stressed), I bake.
The recipe, if you're interested... (in hindsight, I'd add a tsp. of vanilla just for kicks)
1 cup pureeed pumpkin
1 cup sugar
2 beaten eggs
1/2 cup milk
2 cups flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/4 cup butter
1 cup walnuts (recipe calls for pecans, but walnuts are my tradition and taste great)
Mix together the wet ingredients (pumpkin, sugar, eggs,milk). Sift the flour, baking powder, soda, salt, and spices into the wet ingredients and mix. Cream the butter into the batter and mix. Add the nuts. Pour into a greased loaf pan and bake at 350 for around an hour, give or take (usually fresh pumpkin takes longer).
While smelling the delicious aromas of bread baking, remembered past fall seasons. I felt glad to have this time both to talk with my mother and to experience the act of making something delicious for people that I love. I felt touched and thankful to her for the ability to experience the "slow food movement," even before it was a movement. Even though she was a single parent most of her life and did nearly all the housework/cooking (along with a full-time job and childcare) even when she wasn't one, she nearly always took the time to cook us a decent meal, and we always ate meals together as a family. She also often, after all this work, baked a pan of brownies or cookies or muffins for the morning. Unlike very few of my peers, I experienced baking from scratch as the norm growing up, not the exception. I like so many things about the act of baking--knowing what goes into my food, the textures and smells, and others enjoying the fruits of my labor (and of course, enjoying them myself!).
The slow food movement...Join it!
A few weeks ago, the Young Adults' group from my church had a fall picnic, where we celebrated the advent of the season. At this picnic, we carved two large pumpkins. After Halloween, my mother and I baked and pureed the pumkin, which yielded us enough to make all the pumpkin stuff we desired this fall. I had a craving for Pumpkin Nut Bread, which I remember vividly smelling baking and waiting impatiently for it to cool, only to sneak a warn slice off to have with tea. Typically, when I asked to make the bread, she handed me a recipe kept from the label of a can of Libby's pureed pumpkin mostly likely purchased 20 or so years ago, maybe longer. Anytime I ask my mother for a recipe, she has to get out her stack of favorites and leaf through labels cut off of packages, or through a little notebook of "family" recipes copied so long ago and so well used that the pages are semi-transparent. I recopied them into another notebook for her years ago, but I suspect that she still uses that notebook, which she keeps in one of those plastic Troll book pack keepers folded over to make it waterproof. My mother is naturally amusing in many ways.
The recipe itself is an interesting one, changing textures seamlessly and many times, like all the best recipes do. I suppose that between my fascination with chemistry and the warm memories of my mother baking as a child (a tradition I carry on to the best of my ability), the act of sifting dry ingredients into wet ones and mixing (by stirring with my own hands/arms, of course) while noticing the texture changes necessary before I add the next ingredients feels magical to me. When I'm happy or stressed (especially stressed), I bake.
The recipe, if you're interested... (in hindsight, I'd add a tsp. of vanilla just for kicks)
1 cup pureeed pumpkin
1 cup sugar
2 beaten eggs
1/2 cup milk
2 cups flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/4 cup butter
1 cup walnuts (recipe calls for pecans, but walnuts are my tradition and taste great)
Mix together the wet ingredients (pumpkin, sugar, eggs,milk). Sift the flour, baking powder, soda, salt, and spices into the wet ingredients and mix. Cream the butter into the batter and mix. Add the nuts. Pour into a greased loaf pan and bake at 350 for around an hour, give or take (usually fresh pumpkin takes longer).
While smelling the delicious aromas of bread baking, remembered past fall seasons. I felt glad to have this time both to talk with my mother and to experience the act of making something delicious for people that I love. I felt touched and thankful to her for the ability to experience the "slow food movement," even before it was a movement. Even though she was a single parent most of her life and did nearly all the housework/cooking (along with a full-time job and childcare) even when she wasn't one, she nearly always took the time to cook us a decent meal, and we always ate meals together as a family. She also often, after all this work, baked a pan of brownies or cookies or muffins for the morning. Unlike very few of my peers, I experienced baking from scratch as the norm growing up, not the exception. I like so many things about the act of baking--knowing what goes into my food, the textures and smells, and others enjoying the fruits of my labor (and of course, enjoying them myself!).
The slow food movement...Join it!