Bitter Sweet

If you were blessed to know my Grandmama, you would know that she made the best homemade sourdough bread. She baked bread for every special occasion dinner, birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner. I first learned how to make her bread when I was in the sixth grade trying to raise money for my trip to Hawaii as a student ambassador with the People to People organization. Since then, I had not made her bread and here's why...

Many of you may think that this bread was mix the ingredients and throw it in a bread maker...oh you are so wrong. This bread is very time consuming and needs a little elbow grease. I'm surprised that my Grandmama could continue to make the bread in her last months, but then again, she was a very strong woman. Anyway...first, the yeast used for the bread has to be feed every 3-5 days. If you're like me, I have a hard time taking a vitamin every morning. After feeding the bread, it is a 3 day process until you get a chance to put it in the oven (then I won't mention how it should sit in the bread pan smelling deliciously calling your name for a while before you cut into it).

When Grandmama passed away, one of the things that I said I would miss the most is her bread. I loved the way it smelled, the way it tasted and the way it just made dinner complete. I said to myself that I would make Grandmama's bread for Thanksgiving, even though it had been years since I attempted to make it. In a conversation with Mom after the funeral, she had mentioned that she thought that Uncle Wayne or her had thrown the starter (yeast) away from the fridge/freezer because it wasn't any good due to the lack of feeding (due to the Alzheimer's) and that we would just leave the bread making with the memory of Grandmama. I cried for hours after we had that talk because I wasn't expecting her to say that. About a couple of weeks later, Mom called and said she found the starter and revived it! I was so happy that I had the chance to taste that wonderful bread again.

Fall break is when I received the starter. When I arrived back in Johnson City, I feed the starter and began the process for the first batch. I prepared myself because I figured I would be super emotional. I continued the 3 day process and actually left the bread in their pans overnight. The next morning I cut into a loaf and it smushed as I cut into the bottom. The top half had cooked through and had a good flavor, but the bottom of the loaf was dough. When Ryan saw me and the loaf, I lost it. Cried for a few minutes at the thought that I would never be able to get the recipe right and that I don't have Grandmama to walk me step by step through the process to figure out what I did wrong. That night I talked with Mom and she told me something to try on the next one...

After I feed the bread, I started mixing the yeast and the other ingredients to make the dough. I was mixing it in a bowl with my hands and I remembered how the dough would always stick to Grandmama's hands. Then I remembered the photo. Grandmama had a photo in her kitchen of me in pajamas with knee high striped socks mixing the dough and putting my hands up to show her the dough sticking to my hands and laughing. When I remembered this, I burst into tears. Definitely not what I was expecting nor not the best time with dough all over my hands so I could wipe away the tears. I just kept telling myself, "No tears in the dough. Don't cry in the dough..."

Well, today was the day that I could get the bread in the oven. I baked it this morning and didn't cut the loaf until this afternoon. The first loaf (of the four) was much like my first batch, cooked on the top and doughy on the bottom. But the second loaf cut beautifully. It was cooked all the way through and had the same smell and taste. Again, I cried in Ryan's arms.

So...if you get to taste my bread, which all of my fraternity Brothers will get a chance on Saturday at the Alumni Thanksgiving dinner, know that the bread not only has the hard work of myself, but a piece of my Grandmama. I do miss her very much, but at least I can remember and honor her by baking her amazing bread.