In a sentimental mood

This week I was teaching a 2 day course at the San Francisco Baking Institute on Monday and Tuesday. It’s such a wonderful opportunity, and so fun to spend a couple days talking bread, cottage baking and niche dough system topics with budding enthusiasts. In my tiny bakery I work alone day to day, shuffling around the same 200 feet from oven to oven in a complex choreography of repitition and memory. Working with around 18 beginner to intermediate bakers with my SFBI co-teacher reminds me of all the questions I had long ago, that I’ve since found the (many) answers to. Over time the minutiae of daily practice builds up into a bodily knowledge. Translating these vagaries into words and communicating them to others draws me back through time along my baking journey, passing by all the mistakes I’ve made, bread friends I’ve met, and successes and joys I’ve had.

It’s impossible not to feel a little sentimental when retelling my old story for new ears. I was once a woman with 3 kids under 7, delivering bread with them in tow in a cargo bike. I used to mix dough with a 1 year old strapped onto my back. I used to host a night where I read picture books to my customers kids and we bartered for bread. I wrote two books while homeschooling and runing a bakery. I taught tons of classes, traveled to teach, and met so many people. Now I condense the past 15 years into a short introduction. I was asked by a student if after all this time and work, do I still love baking? I do, I still love baking. I genuinely treasure how I spend my time, and the people I do it all for. A baker’s life is a hardworking one and a charmed one, and I love doing it with you all in my community. Many of my regulars have been with me since the early days, I’ve watched your families grow up, and that means so much to me.