Baking Toward Something True
Hello. Hi. It’s me again. I know it’s been a while.
I’ve gone through some big life changes. The biggest one being getting acclimated to a new full time job. Breaducated and my baking experiments have taken a back seat to the universe throwing things my way. And that’s okay. The beauty about bread is that it’s like riding a bike. You don’t quite forget how to do it just because you haven’t done it for a long time.
The thing is though…. With so much going on in my life, I’ve been deeply uninspired. I’ve been deeply secluded. I’ve been struggling with my voice and my vision of what I want to put out into the world. And so, my own personal experiments and working on new things has felt more like a chore I’m putting off than an exciting new thing to try. I’ve found myself retreating farther and farther into myself instead of reaching out and sharing with my friends, family, and the very few of you who have found your way here in my cozy corner of the internet.
The longer I found myself alone, the harder it became to move back into a space of openness and curiosity.
And then… I made a phone call.
One simple call to one of my most beloved mentors.
Truly, it was to ask for advice on something very mundane. Something I already knew the answer to, even. But that small bit of human connection, maybe just 30 minutes of catching up and having a sounding board for a minor dilemma, brought something out of me I didn’t even know had decided to hide.
A deep desire to connect with others. And well… The best way I know how to connect with people is through food. And specifically through baking. Not just bread, but all baking. Cakes, cookies, candy making, and so on.
Baking is how I’d spend my time almost everyday after school, trying something new. Knowing my older brother and his friends would be crowded in our basement waiting for me to bring down my newest experiment. Whether they liked it or not, they would try it. And they’d happily give me their opinions. Mincing words wasn’t a skill the gaggle of teenage boys who raised me had.
Going down that lane of nostalgia reminded me of what inspired me to be a professional baker for so many years. Taste is a strong memory linked sense. The right foods can truly transport you to completely different times and places. And…. I guess that’s really what I want to inspire in others to do. To make baked goods that transport them. To be courageous in experimenting. To keep chasing their personal version of the perfect loaf or cinnamon roll or chocolate chip cookie. Not because they can’t buy a prettier or more professional one somewhere else, but because the pursuit of it all is what makes it worthwhile. Because when you finally get the exact result you want, it continues to inspire not just you, but others who get to taste what you’ve created.
Sure, you can go to a restaurant or bakery and get something you know you’ll love. You can share those memories with your loved ones. And yes, there is a great chance it’ll be a lot prettier than anything you can make with your limited space and tools in your own home. But do you know what inspired those bakers and chefs?
Their grandmother’s tried and true recipe with partial instructions and obscure measurements. Their parents baking or cooking with them at home growing up. The taste of their childhoods. I know that’s what inspired me to bake. I know that’s what inspired me to view the world through bread and the history, science, and culture it encompasses.
And so… With that said, my main inspiration right now is finding my voice again. Not just for the sake of building a brand or business. But for the 10 year old version of me who wondered why her cookies looked and tasted different when she melted her butter instead of creaming it as a solid. For the 17 year old me who made a plant cell diorama out of cake and icing and fondant for extra credit in Biology II. For the 19 year old me on my first culinary school internship, in a city I had never been to before, who was determined to prove wrong the head pastry chef who told me I would never make it in the food industry and that I needed to grow a spine.
That's the thing about one small phone call. Thirty minutes to ask about something mundane, and somehow it cracked open a door I didn't realize I'd shut. I don't know yet what this next chapter of Breaducated looks like. I don't have a tidy five step plan or a content calendar or any of the things I probably should have. What I have is this. A blog post. A reason to write it. And a decision to stop retreating and start reaching back out, to you, the way that call reached out to me.
