When I decided I wanted to take on this little market stand / bread-baker venture, I knew it had to be for me. I had to make a decision to bet on myself, and that is not the kind of decision that comes easily to me.
Honestly, I have always been incredibly hard on myself. I have spent most of my life seeking validation from others, especially my dad. I have never really thought of myself as particularly smart or gifted. That mindset has caused me to get in my own way in almost every area of life.
But lately something has started to shift. At 37 years old, I am beginning to believe in myself a little more, and my worldview is changing. A few things I have realized:
- Just because I am not Einstein does not mean I am not smart.
- If I choose to identify myself in a certain way (a baker, beekeeper, creative, artsy person, etc.), that does not mean I have to be the most knowledgeable or the best at it. Simply doing the thing gets me there. I do not have to be the pinnacle of the word.
- Why am I holding myself to impossible standards? Nothing is actually that big of a deal.
- Most people are not good at things when they start. Almost everyone who becomes good at something has had to put in the work.
That last point brings me to the subject of this blog: learning how to bake one loaf of bread and then moving to many loaves.
Sure, it is bread. How hard can it be? Famous last words.
It turns out there is a big difference between making a wonderful loaf of bread and making many wonderful loaves of bread. It takes timing and consistency, especially since I am baking almost entirely sourdough bread.
Last week I baked 12 loaves of bread at once. It was my first time testing out my bulk bread recipe. I went into the bake feeling confident, but it quickly turned into a rollercoaster of emotions: excitement, frustration, negative self-talk, and eventually acceptance.
I started the test batch earlier in the week by feeding my starter and getting it very bubbly. I have actually had good luck feeding my starter only about once a week. I keep it in the oven with the light on to stay warm since I keep the house around 67 degrees. When I feed it, it usually springs right back to life.
So when I was greeted with an energetic starter, I was excited.
I decided to multiply my single-loaf recipe by ten and mixed everything directly in my dough bin. I went through my usual process: autolyse, stretch and folds, and then an overnight cold fermentation.
When I opened the bin early the next morning, the dough had risen beautifully.
I experimented with a few different pans, including a baguette tray. I was able to fit nine loaves into my oven and I was feeling great about how the recipe was going.
Then smoke started billowing out of the oven.
Turns out the baguette pan could not handle a 450 degree oven, which surprised me because that is a very common bread-baking temperature. The bottoms of the baguettes were completely charred.
I thought, “Alright. No big deal. Four loaves down, but the others survived.” I told myself we were learning and figuring it out.
Then the rest of the loaves came out.
One loaf was completely deformed. Another would not release from the pan and tore at the bottom. Out of the nine loaves that went into the oven, I was suddenly down to three. That was when the panic and negative thought spiral started kicking in.
“I’m terrible at this.”
“Look at all the ingredients that went to waste.”
“All that work for nothing.”
“Just give up.”
All of that… over bread.
But this is what my brain does when I am working on something I care about. Big or small. So I stepped back and reminded myself that those negative thoughts are just thoughts. They are not facts. I let them pass and shifted into learning mode.
What did today teach me? What can I do better next time?
- Never use that baguette pan again.
- Grease the bread pans!!!!
- Score deeper and add steam to the oven.
All easy fixes.
In the end, I put my remaining 3 loaves in the oven and ended up with six beautiful loaves. Not bad for a first attempt at bulk bread baking.
Next week I will try again with what I learned and hopefully get a little closer to the final product.
So if you happen to stop by the market stand this Spring, know that a lot of love, burned loaves, and learning moments went behind it.
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