Bread dough offers a healthy reminder that even in your absence, the great world spins. Last night, when at long last I arrived back home in Rochester, to restore order in the only way I know I can, I promptly set about to making bread. But in the flurry of kisses from Izzy, the toppling pile of mail to be sorted and managed, dinner preparations, the writing impulse, and a week’s worth of clutter from the many bags stuffed with found objects and treasures from New Orleans and Minneapolis—I forgot about my bread dough quietly rising in a dark nook, and retired to bed. This morning I was met with abundance. How faithful and diligent is the yeast while I am at rest. How comforting to know that I do not, that I cannot, do it alone. That even my failure might yield growth.
Whole Wheat Flaxen Tartine Bread
Adapted from the Tartine Bread Book
Sourdough 200 g
Water 800 g
Wheat flour 700 g
Regular flour 300 g
Salt 20 g
1 cup flax seeds
1 cup chia seeds (or sunflower seeds, poppy or sesame, or whatever seed you feel like)
4 cups boiling water
Pour the boiling water over the seeds, cover, and set aside until cool.
Prepare the dough using the method of Tartine Country Bread, except let the dough rest for 60 minutes in the first rise, because it needs to absorb more water. Mix the seeds in after the first folding.
Had the blessing to spend the weekend in Minneapolis staying with my dear friend Susan while attending the AWP Conference. We took a stroll to Memory Lanes to watch bowling and eat tots after taking several laps on the Cajun dance floor at the Eagles.
KP and I wandered into this fabulous BBQ joint, somewhat by accident. We had the audacity to ask the owner as he was seating us, “How long has Market BBQ been here?” “Oh, only 70 years.” Fantastic, the best, pulled pork I’ve had in a long time, served on buns of brioche! Heaven!
And finally, the birdseed bread produced by the Birchwood Cafe where Susan and I had a lazy Wednesday morning breakfast after I landed in MSP from NOLA. I enjoyed a black bean burger on this millet, flax, and sunflower seed speckled bun! So good!
Haiku #98 (April 8)
Behind sky scrapers
I see the glow of arson,
or, a setting sun.
Haiku #99 (April 9)
It takes great courage
to make a not-for-profit
movement. Dance called grace.
Haiku #100 (April 10)
My ear, ungrateful
wretch, keeps trying to lose the
pearl I stabbed through her.
Haiku #101 (April 11)
Public art is like
acupuncture for landscape.
A quiet healing.
You are such a treasure, Rachel! It was a complete joy and delight to have you in my city for a few days. What a very beautiful and heartening message of growth and goodness coming even from failure. How wondrous is the One who makes such things possible. Also, what is the public art that is referenced in your Haiku # 101?
The public art is any public art– I think art itself is acupuncture for otherwise unstimulated spaces
Rach my dear, thanks for satisfying my curiosity about this detail of your post 🙂 I really like, and am in agreement with your perspective on the effect public art has on the space it’s in. I’m thankful that there is so much marvelous public art in this world!