Today is “Homemade Bread Day”!
So, I wanted to share a little story with you about my experience making homemade bread and what it means to me.
One of my favorite memories from my childhood was coming home after from school to a warm, buttery treat. I could always tell when my Mama had made bread that day; even before I opened the door, because the aroma permeated through the air. That fresh-baked, brilliant bread was there just waiting for me to put a thick slice of cold, hard butter on it where I would watch it melt into slice and start salivating for that first bite. The smells of freshly baked loaves of bread filling your home are smells that you never forget, and smells that still conjure warm memories of days of gone by. There was no mistaking that Mama’s bread was the best in town. Ahhh! It was the best in the whole county!
As I got older and married, I wanted to learn how to make bread like Mom. Ya, right!
Her recipe was as follows:
Use flour, sugar, salt, milk, yeast, and lard. But, there wasn’t really ever any clear recipe with measurements. You really just had to estimate how much of each of the ingredients was used… and that, of course, was always the challenge.
Her directions continued, “Start with 4 – 6 sifters of flour, about this much of sugar”, (as she just poured from a bag or storage bucket), “and a hand full of salt. You will also need a certain size pan.” That pan probably came from the “old country”, which I never had. “Then, you need a little bowl to melt the lard, but do not get it hot or it would kill the cake yeast.”
Now that you know the recipe, good luck. I never had good luck as I either killed the yeast or didn’t have enough lard and the bread would be like a brick.
Being the baby of the family, my mother always spoiled me, and I always a got a loaf out of her eight or nine loaves that she made. And, of course, whenever we would visit her for breakfast or dinner (which was fairly often later on), we always had as much as we wanted… with almost every meal. My mother would bake eight or nine loaves of bread at a time, but she would do this several times a year. She would pass these loaves to her family and freeze the rest. Bread is one thing we never really went without. It was a staple that brought our family together then… and the smells of homemade bread serves as a beautiful memories today.
In honor of “Homemade Bread Day” we want to hear from you. Let us know your baking story triumphs and failures, and those special baking moments you remember best.
Georgann Churchya, Owner
Georgie’s Custom Catering