The Joy of Baking Bread, Happy Birthday Mom

Walnut Golden Raisin Bread

Nothing like fresh baked bread to warm the heart.

      I love baking bread.  I love the way the house smells when bread is baking,  it really makes any place feel like home.  It brings out so many loving memories.  In fact my earliest memories are of home made bread.  My mother was an expert bread maker from hand.  Her bread was heavenly.  Light, white, and sweet.  It was amazing.  She was an amazing baker,  she could do wonders with her bread dough.

      Her cinnamon rolls where amazing also.  They were sweet, dripping in butter and topped with an amazing maple frosting.

      On bread days she would often take a loaf of dough and chop in into pieces and roll it out on a flat surface.  Once it was rolled out she would place it in a hot cast iron skillet filled with Crisco  and fry it to perfection.  We would call it "Scones" and top it with butter, honey, or fresh bottle jam that we always had in abundance.

     She made her bread in a large stainless steel bread bowl that made about 16 lbs. of dough.  The real treat was that first loaf of bread out of the oven.   Cut into large chunks and of course topped with lots of butter and jam.  It was the most wonderful food ever back then and still is to me the best taste in the entire world.

     This month is my mothers birthday,  she would be 76 years old.  I miss her, but every time I bake bread I think of this amazing person that not knowing what she was doing instilled in me the love of home made bread.  I am sure as a young mother her thought was not the impact her bread making was going to have on her son.  I am certain that she was only trying to feed a hungry family and bread making was just one more chore on her list of things that needed to be done.  Isn't that how life is.  We really never know the impact the daily chores or rituals will have, taking no thought of how often our actions today will effect our families, children, or friends is years to come.

      That is the power of food.  It has the power to change our lives in ways we do not even understand.   It can unite, bring together, and form lasting memories that remain long after we have eaten the food.
I am so grateful for the memories of my mother baking bread for her hungry boys.  Thanks mom, your influence has literally blesses hundreds of lives and you thought you were only baking bread.

My Mom when I was a boy growing up. 

      I have to say one more thing about my mom.  I thought she was the prettiest mom ever.  I told my friends bragging, "You should see my mom, she is so pretty".  They believed me and I invited them to come and see her for themselves.  We were anxiously waiting out side the shop where she said she was coming.  I was so excited to show off my mom I could hardly stand it.  She showed up and to my great dismay it was hair day and her head was wrapped up in a towel, no makeup.  I keep telling them "Really guys she is so pretty, today is just a bad day".  My mom was a knock out.  All my friends loved her.