Few smells remind me of my childhood more than freshly made bread.
For the first few years of my life, my mom stayed at home with us. She cooked everything we ate, made our clothes some of the time, and generally kept the house running. One of my favorite things she made (and frequently!) was Anadama bread.
Anadama bread is a classic yeast bread created in New England made with flour, molasses, and cornmeal. It reminds me of home. Since it was a gross day outside (again!), I decided it would be a good day to remake my childhood favorite.
I recently got a bread machine. I’m usually a bread snob, doing everything myself: kneading, proofing, shaping, proofing again, baking. But I wanted to make things a little easier on myself with all the changes in my life.
With a bread machine, I could still have the bread I love while saving myself some coveted time.
It took a few tries to tweak the recipe enough to fit in the smaller space that my bread maker required and get the taste right since I had to rely on online recipes rather than the exact one I grew up with.
I think I’ve finally mastered the ratios for all of the ingredients, and it reminded me that breadmaking might actually be a metaphor for my life.
I’ve had a lot of change recently: I got divorced. I’m buying a new house. I’m developing a different and healthier relationship with my children. I’m returning to the person I used to be before my marriage, who is someone I like a whole lot more.
Who thought baking a loaf of bread could bring up so much emotion?
