One day I am going to write a book about making bread and sandwiches. I think that day might be soon, or at least I hope so. As I recall JRR Tolkien wrote The Hobbit in the 1930s and then finished Lord of the Rings in the 1950s. Is this blog post my The Hobbit? No.
But it is about bread and sandwiches.
And it’s not about work. Right now I find my energy and ability to write about work is really low. I fell out of the habit of writing as a result.
Can we draw some lessons from baking bread in an unfamiliar kitchen that can be applied to work? Sure we can. Let’s get them out of the way:
Test your methods in unfamiliar environments. It makes them better
Think about what your minimum viable toolkit is
Verify that things are as they seem*
Iterate your practice based on experiences
*AKA the oven is lying to you
So, to bread.
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There is no recipe in this blog post. When I write my forthcoming book about bread and sandwiches, title TBC, I am resolved to lead with the recipe rather than the preamble / life story. The state of online recipes is pretty much a meme in that regard and I want people to be able to get going. Then there can be the post-amble (?) and the life story which people can read at their leisure while the bread is in the oven for 35 minutes at 240 degrees.
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In recent years when we go on holiday it’s to a self-catering place somewhere by the seaside in the UK**. I like to make bread. It’s rewarding to make a decent loaf in an unfamiliar kitchen. Bread from the supermarket is bad. Bread from the fancy pants baker is overpriced and also there might not be a fancy pants baker nearby.
I pack a minimum viable bread kit. At the time of writing it consists of:
A loaf tin
An oven thermometer
Some razor blades
Some baking parchment
Digital scales
A jar of sourdough starter wrapped in a plastic bag
Note that the loaf tin serves a dual purpose because it acts as a receptacle for the other items.
I have never seen a loaf tin in a self catering place. It is better to have a loaf tin than (say) make a round loaf because bread from a loaf tin is more convenient for sandwiches and you are going to be going on walks and having picnic lunch, ok?
You need an oven thermometer because all ovens lie. Your own oven is lying to you every day. “Sure I am at 240 degrees right now beep beep” it says. Is it at 240 degrees right now? No it is not beep beep my ass. We were on holiday in Rye on the English south coast. The oven said it was hot but it wasn’t hot enough to melt the cheese on a pizza. You had to max out the temperature to even cook anything. I didn’t make bread that time because the oven was not fit for purpose. But I resolved to always take an oven thermometer with me so that I could know the truth on my own terms. Ovens can run hotter than they claim as well, or have patchy distribution of heat. Once I managed to make bread in an Aga but that was a whole other feat against all odds and not for now.
Razor blades are for making a slash in the top of the loaf like they do in the movies about bread and also in the fancy pants bakers. This is the least necessary item of equipment and I think I might phase it out. I have never been thanked for the slash on the top of the loaf by consumers of the bread. The slash can prevent air gaps in the crust so it’s not without utility but I tend to be able to avoid those by keeping a close eye on how much the bread has risen.
Baking parchment might just be the most useful kitchen product there is. I would gladly do an endorsement deal for Big Parchment. I always line my loaf tin with baking parchment because one time I made some sourdough bread and the non-stick coating came off the tin and onto the crust. I have not looked back ever since that important learning experience. I used to travel with a roll of baking parchment but then I realised I can take a metre or so of baking parchment and fold it up small.
From the data available to me fewer than 20% of places can be expected to have digital scales. No host is expecting their guests to be baking a loaf of bread. You might be able to measure quantities with a measuring jug, and it’s likely there’s going to be one in the place. But will it have the measures for liquids *and* flour down the side? It’s your risk. Hey maybe you can measure quantities by eye good on you. Maybe you are an American and can do that thing with cups but my friend that is not me. I want some digital scales. The are light and you can use them for other stuff because you are catering for yourself and maybe there’s a nice recipe you want to try for dinner.
I use a jam jar for my sourdough starters. You can read more about my sourdough starter practice in my forthcoming book about bread and sandwiches, title TBC. The jam jar is in a plastic bag because one time it leaked all over my luggage.
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When I am on holiday I like to keep it simple and bake a white sourdough loaf. I have a variety of loaves of bread that I make and you can read more about them in my forthcoming book about bread and sandwiches, title TBC.
I also make bread rolls, with yeast. I don’t travel with yeast or God forbid a bag of strong white bread flour because those are readily available in the supermarket. If there is a fancy pants baker in town you might be able to get really nice flour and some fresh yeast too.
What I appreciate is how different the white loaves turn out compared with one I’d make at home. They’re still decent, but with just a few small changes to conditions and method the results aren’t anywhere near the same. I do think you build up a familiar balance of environment and technique over time and don’t pay attention to- or interrogate it. It’s something that’s worth testing in an unfamiliar place now and again.
**I would not do any of this if I was travelling outside of the UK. I could get away with the razor blades if I prepared ahead of time and really needed a shave but I don’t know how I would justify taking my precious jar of microbes into another country.