A Simple Loaf of Bread

We had a casual backyard grill party on Saturday.

Some family, some friends, sausages on the grill, beer on ice, that kind of thing.


One friend, Dan Hardisty, brought a loaf of bread, still warm from the oven. Bread making is one of his current passions, and Dan is the type of person who fully invests himself in his passions.


We put it on the counter, with the intent of sharing it with all our guests, but somehow in the noise and hubbub of the afternoon, we forgot about it and didn’t realize the lapse until it was too late.


This morning we spent a lazy Sunday, sitting on the back deck, looking over the lush green mountain and the little meadow in front of us, and reading the Sunday Oregonian while the dogs lazed on the lounge chairs and dozed.

For breakfast I found Dan’s loaf of bread and toasted some up and slathered it with sweet butter.

A simple loaf of bread is a wonderful thing. It’s one of the great gifts that life provides for us. And Dan’s loaf of bread, a simple pain levain style, was perfect in all its simplicity. Crusty and chewy on the outside, but light and airy inside, not too thick or moist, and not too dry, it had that perfect balance.

The light toasting simply brought out some earthy elements and the smell of toast and melted butter were all we needed with our morning coffee. The flaky/chewy crust provided just the right amount of texture and resiliency to the teeth, and the toasted edges and slightly denser base gave up a satisfying crunch and gnaw.

Dan’s bread was so good, and so satisfying, that we continued to slice and toast and butter and munch and read until the paper was finished…and the loaf was half gone.

So thanks, Dan. That simple loaf of bread was quite a gift.

[For a picture, click on the link below.]

Hoke, I know exactly where you're coming from. As you probably know, we've been baking all our own bread since Jan 2007 - haven't bought a loaf in all that time. Our bread is usually sourdough, although I'll often bake yeast flatbreads and pizzas as well. There are some days when the bread is simply so good that we don't want to eat anything else. And you're right, it IS such a gift - no matter what our means or circumstance, there is nothing stopping us from having a homemade loaf of bread and truly appreciating how blessed we are to be able to taste, enjoy and be nourished by it.

A quote from John Stewart Collis’s The Worm Forgives the Plough (1973) - his observations and ruminations on agriculture after working on the land during World War II:

When I got home I heard John Barbirolli conducting Beethoven’s ‘Seventh Symphony’, over the air. What was agriculture for, it seemed to me, except that such a thing as that symphony and the playing of it should be made possible? To make bread so that it shall be possible for mankind to have more than bread and hear the scripture of the kings; to listen to a Beethoven, a Sibelius, a Tchaikovsky, uttering some far message to paradox and joy.

Great quote, C.

Thanks Chef. I thought you might like it...

There is nothing more tasty than a piece of homemade bread slathered with sweet buttter. About 12 or 13 years ago I started to make some bread of my own, even invested in a bread making machine. Well after a few months I realized I would have to buy all new clothes because of the weight I had gained. So I quit making bread and gave away my bread making machine. I know moderation is the key word but I was addicted to that bread like I was to cigarettes earlier in my life. I had pangs of withdrawal for months. I started to salivate reading Hoke's description.