Picture an artisan loaf. It might be a round boule or oval-shaped bâtard, dark brown or slightly charred, score marks decorating the crust, and an open crevice where a hot oven spring has burst open the loaf.… Continue reading
When I step outside at 2 a.m., it’s cold and dark. I find my way to Mildrith’s shelter with the light of a headlamp. Sometimes a light breeze jostles the wind chimes. They sound like an eerie, monastic night-chant. Compline.
The fire in Mildrith, the wood-fired oven, has been burning 17 hours.… Continue reading
I’ve been asking Happy Monk customers what they like to do with their bread. The answers thus far have been tummy-warming. They never fail to make my stomach rumble. To hurry home and try whatever they’ve described for using their Happy Monk loaf.
Some pick up their bread and tell me their immediate plans.… Continue reading
In the Fall of 1975, I was one of a handful of people sitting in a classroom in the Buchanan Building at the University of British Columbia. It was the noon hour. A few people ate sandwiches, some conversed in hushed tones.
I don’t remember any introduction.… Continue reading
The bread recipe formula says let the dough ferment four hours. The dough says nuh-uh! I’m almost done! The dough doesn’t care about the recipe!
Let me tell you something: The dough wins. Always.
There’s no point in cursing the dough. No point in cursing the recipe. The dough just wins. Period. And all you can do is accept this … with humility.… Continue reading