Three Tips for Bread and Living a Flavorful Life

My grandma lived through two world wars, the Great Depression, and hot summers in South Texas. Not once did I hear her complain or whine about her endless daily chores of milking cows, tending chickens, or baking bread.

I watched Grandma do all those things and more, but what I can still smell in my dreams is bread fresh from the oven. She hefted 50-pound sacks of flour into the drawer of a handmade wooden stand that stored jars of jelly, pickles, and sauerkraut.

You haven’t experienced the fullness of life until you have eaten a slice of warm bread oozing with churned butter, taking one lucious bite after another.

Freshly baked loaf of bread with a golden brown crust, resting on a wire cooling rack on a textured countertop.

Without a recipe, she handmixed flour, water, salt, and yeast. The dough fell under her spell as she pulled and pushed, kneading the dough into compliance, placing it into a pan. The oven transformed raw ingredients into mouth-watering magic.

White dust clung to the flour sack apron sewn on her 1920s treadle Singer. You didn’t waste anything on the farm, not food, or cotton cloth from a flour sack.

Over the years, I’ve tried to replicate Grandma’s magic, but rather than puffy loaves, I created unedible or barely edible floury bricks. But last December, I became inspired by my daughter’s venture into sourdough bread. I took on a new challenge.

I’m still learning and always surprised when a loaf comes out of the oven, taking me back to Grandma’s kitchen and the smell of baked bread. I found a new bread mentor who explains the intricacies of sourdough starters, levain, autolyse, and ultimately a loaf of bread.

All that information might have sent me into overwhelm a year ago, but the student was ready to deepen her knowledge and move to an intuitive understanding of baking—that moment when you just “know” what works.

A freshly baked loaf of rustic bread on a cooling rack, sliced to reveal a soft, airy interior.

My favorite insights on baking sourdough came on page 25 of The Perfect Loaf by Maurizio Leo. His three tips apply to more than your starter. They encompass guidelines for living a joyful and flavorful life.

Be mindful. Pay attention to what surrounds you: people, nature, and yourself.
Stick to the same recipe for a while. Routines and processes make life easier, and sometimes, we have to give people a chance to become their best. We’re all a work in progress.
Be curious and experiment. Ask questions. Play. Dabble in art, hobbies, and activities that stretch and fold you into new experiences.

And a final bonus tip: have fun.

You may not be inclined to go off on a baking binge, but even your local grocery store bakes bread. Find yourself a good loaf of sourdough and warm it in the oven. Share with a friend or loved one—make a joyful moment.

A Little Blues for Baking

Words to Live By

“With bread all sorrows are less.”
— The character Sancho Panza in Don Quixote

“Man cannot live by bread alone. He needs peanut butter.”
—James A. Garfield, US president

A serene, empty road flanked by lush greenery and tall trees under a clear blue sky, inviting peaceful exploration.

I always welcome your thoughts, so please leave a comment

Thanks for reading. Feel free to forward this weekly note to someone who would enjoy a few words of inspiration. Or if you received this from a friend and want to receive my weekly post, sign up here.

And always—