About Bread
Bread . . . Bread . . . Bread . . . so wonderful to make, to share and to be nourished by.
When my children were teenagers with bottomless appetites, I used to bake six loaves of bread at a time. I learned from a Vermont farm wife to place two rolls of dough together in a bread pan. They rose together and would look silky like a baby’s bottom. After the bread was baked it was easy to break the loaf in half and serve it, which was the real reason the farm wife make it that way. Half a loaf at a meal for the farm hands was what was wisely offered. I did the same for my kids who could devour more than that at a sitting slathering the slices with butter and honey.
I learned, too, that if I played something by Mozart the dough would rise higher than it normally would. Bread and Mozart, the warm smell of yeast and flour cascading throughout the house, what a good feeling it gave me.
There is a depth of meaning in the process of making bread that I wrote about in Becoming Bread: Meditations on Loving and Transformation. I hope you will read the book especially since Bishop Desmond Tutu said this about it: “Remove you shoes, for this is holy ground. I was almost breathless with wonder at the beauty of Gunilla Norris’s words – so simple and yet so profound, striking home gently because they are so true, so authentic. You recognize them as if you had crafted them, you recognize the interconnectedness of things and ourselves; you are nurtured by the bread that is you, that is your neighbor, that is creation, that is God.” When I received that endorsement is sat down on the floor and wept.
Here is a little excerpt to tempt you. “After the dough is mixed and kneaded, it grows light with air. Slowly the yeast does its work, and the dough rises in the bowl to be punched down and kneaded again. Then it is divided and the bread pans are filled. The dough rises a second time in the individual pans. We must work with time and with patience if we want to make bread. There is no point in making it if we do not accept this. This is true of loving also. Awareness . . . acceptance . . . patience. It takes everything we have to be able to live this way. It means that we finally take up what is ours to do and let go of what is beyond our abilities.”
The book can be ordered from Amazon or you can ask you local bookshop to get it. For more information please visit my website: GunillaNorris.com
Becoming Bread: Embracing the Spiritual in the Everyday
When my children were teenagers with bottomless appetites, I used to bake six loaves of bread at a time. I learned from a Vermont farm wife to place two rolls of dough together in a bread pan. They rose together and would look silky like a baby’s bottom. After the bread was baked it was easy to break the loaf in half and serve it, which was the real reason the farm wife make it that way. Half a loaf at a meal for the farm hands was what was wisely offered. I did the same for my kids who could devour more than that at a sitting slathering the slices with butter and honey.
I learned, too, that if I played something by Mozart the dough would rise higher than it normally would. Bread and Mozart, the warm smell of yeast and flour cascading throughout the house, what a good feeling it gave me.
There is a depth of meaning in the process of making bread that I wrote about in Becoming Bread: Meditations on Loving and Transformation. I hope you will read the book especially since Bishop Desmond Tutu said this about it: “Remove you shoes, for this is holy ground. I was almost breathless with wonder at the beauty of Gunilla Norris’s words – so simple and yet so profound, striking home gently because they are so true, so authentic. You recognize them as if you had crafted them, you recognize the interconnectedness of things and ourselves; you are nurtured by the bread that is you, that is your neighbor, that is creation, that is God.” When I received that endorsement is sat down on the floor and wept.
Here is a little excerpt to tempt you. “After the dough is mixed and kneaded, it grows light with air. Slowly the yeast does its work, and the dough rises in the bowl to be punched down and kneaded again. Then it is divided and the bread pans are filled. The dough rises a second time in the individual pans. We must work with time and with patience if we want to make bread. There is no point in making it if we do not accept this. This is true of loving also. Awareness . . . acceptance . . . patience. It takes everything we have to be able to live this way. It means that we finally take up what is ours to do and let go of what is beyond our abilities.”
The book can be ordered from Amazon or you can ask you local bookshop to get it. For more information please visit my website: GunillaNorris.com
Becoming Bread: Embracing the Spiritual in the Everyday
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