Baking is a Passion

Cold days followed by even colder nights are the norm for January. It sometimes feels like the longest month of the year. Waking in the dark and going home in the dark make for short periods of light. But we are turning a corner. A small warmup announces February and since it is the shortest month, it won’t be long now until things start stirring below the ground and slowly waking and regaining momentum for growth.
One thing that keeps me going year-round is The Baking. I write it in capital letters because it has carried me through all kinds of experiences. During the high times and the low times, I turn to baking as a way to work out my struggles or my celebrations. As I work the flour and feel the dough against my fingers, as I punch and roll its bulk against my palms, as I pat it and cover it for its rising, my heart goes along for the ride. I punch it down then I shape and bake it. Just as the baking goes through its full cycle so do I. I can start all over again the next time.
Baking is a passion that I have no matter the weather or the season and those who feed it are my friends: the millers. I have two childhood memories about millers. One came from a book my mother read to me about a boy who thanks his parent for his nice warm roll and is sent back to find the source of the roll. He goes to the miller who grinds the grain that the farmer grows. My other memory is a Christmas play we would listen to every year where a miller whose wife has left him stops grinding grain and even ties the sails of his windmill so that they will not turn the wheel to grind. But when Jesus is born, the windmill starts up and grinds the finest flour that he has ever seen and he immediately bags it up and takes it as a gift to baby Jesus.
I remember seeing the bags of flour in the back entryway of the bakery down our street. Now I have bags of flour at my bakery. I like to know where my food comes from and so around here, I’ve been lucky to find some millers who grind the wheat for baking. Here in Elkhart County, Bonneyville Mill grinds flour from May through October. The mill there is powered by the river and turns out a variety of flours for the passionate baker. I’ve enjoyed using their corn grits for a bread I call “Jimmy Crack Corn”. A little further afield, New Rinkel flour is milled close to Howe, Indiana. My life and baking have also been enriched by a miller named Howard who ground wheat, rye and corn on a stone wheel. He always had a story to tell with each bag he brought. Once I even received a special bag of blue cornmeal from him. And more recently, Justin or his wife, Melissa, have brought me bags of freshly ground wheat. The smell of the grain turned into fine flour is amazing. And every miller I’ve ever met seems like the most interesting person in the world.
If you have never met a miller then you probably don’t know that when you see them, they will have flour stuck somewhere on their clothing or shoes. Even as a baker, I find that my dark shirts turn into lighter shades as the flour insinuates itself everywhere. It’s the opposite of being a coal miner; instead of black dust, it’s white dust. So, if you decide to do some baking in these cold winter months, I recommend you find some locally ground flour (New Rinkel is available at grocery stores) and relax with a batch of bread. Things will work themselves out.

Oatmeal Bran Bread

In a large bowl, mix:
2 c. whole wheat flour
2 c. regular rolled oats
1 c. oatmeal bran
2 1/2 T. sea salt
Add and stir in:
1/2 c. honey
2 t. oil
4 c. hot water
In a measuring cup, mix 1 c. warm water and 2 scant T. yeast .
When the ingredients in bowl are lukewarm, add the yeast mixture. Stir in 3 c. whole wheat flour and enough white flour to make a soft dough. Turn out onto a counter and knead until smooth.
Let rise in a greased bowl, covered with a moist cloth. When doubled, punch down shape into 3 or 4 loaves. Brush with a mixture of egg white and water. Sprinkle with rolled oats. Let rise again until almost doubled. Bake at 375 degrees for 40 minutes.