For a long time I’ve had a children’s book with pictures of baked bread from around the world. French bread, Iranian bread, Scottish bread, Peruvian bread, etc. Some loaves are long and thin, others thick and round or flat and round. I love looking at the images and our child, who loves eating bread, enjoys the pictures, too. 

Bread for me has warm connotations. Growing up I had two close friends I met with almost every week to bake. We alternated between homes. Baking in winter was the best because all of our houses had wood burning stoves and we could use the warmth of that heat to help the dough rise. I may sound crazy, but dough left to rise beside a wood burning stove creates better tasting bread than the average bread tastes. If that dough is surrounded with conversations about faith and doubt and insights and epiphanies, then its flavor deepens. 

These days I don’t have those things. Those people I love are in different places now both physically, relationally and spiritually. Also, I no longer live with a wood burning stove. But this post isn’t really just about bread. It’s about baking in general because I love baking and so does our little rump roast.

As people were gearing up for the polar vortex coming through this weekend they were buying groceries. I went to the store for items and was blown away with the length of the line. A reasonable person would consider eggs, toilet paper and milk. I did manage to get milk because we were very close to being out, but I was desperate to hit the stores for things other than basic groceries. I needed lemons, malt powder and baking soda. I planned to bake, of course!

My spouse requested King Arthur’s Lemon Bliss Cake, which I was happy to make, but I certainly didn’t want to stop there. We have apples in our garage that I never made into sauce and apple crisp is my favorite dessert. The malt powder I mentioned previously? That’s for the pizza dough  assembled yesterday with plans to make pizza tomorrow. We also just got a really lovely olive oil and balsamic vinegar combination for Christmas and I want to dip bread in that. I also have 6 very dark bananas sitting in the fridge waiting to be transformed into muffins. Of course, this morning I woke to my ever loving spouse pulling baked oatmeal out of the oven. Ack! And then there were the cookies I baked two nights ago! Seriously!

I love baking. I love cold weather. I also really love baking in cold weather and this is not always the best combination. The problem with all this baking is the calories. I don’t mind calories, but not piled on top of one another and not while you’re stuck inside doing mostly cuddly things like playing games and reading books and watching tv. What does one do when they love to bake, but don’t have an Amish family of 16 to consume it all? Sigh. “To bake or not to bake?” That certainly is the question.

Fortunately, I’ve learned how to do the baking and not get stuck with too much. The solution? Share! Sharing baked goods is also a love language for me. Tonight, rather than walking lemon cake to our neighbors, we invited them over. This couple has taken an interest in our daughter. He spent years working with youth who were troubled and long ago she opened her own daycare. They’re quality people who care about the people around them and I am infinitely comfortable leaving her with them on the rare occasion that they have time. We don’t see them often these days, but I’m so grateful for them living beside us and glad they take our offerings. And so is our daughter. 

Before her nap today I asked if she wanted to help make lemon cake for neighbor S and B? She nodded yes. And she did. She dumped, stirred, tasted and poured. She watched, learned and anticipated the finished cake and the arrival of our visitors. When the neighbors came over, she was given the task of offering the plate of cake to them so she is hopefully picking up this love of baked things and friendship/community.

Tomorrow we may go to church despite the cold. If we do, we’ll take a piece to a woman who loves lemon flavored things. And our little one may have a friend date. If that happens, we’ll drop off three pieces of cake to them. We’ll still have excess so my spouse will likely want full access to it and I’ll likely strongly comment that we need to balance our intake with healthy options and exercise. Then, of course, I’ll eat more than he does. That’s normally how it goes.

And I am happy with it all. Tonight my day is ending with deep, deep gratitude (and a bit of Mennonite guilt/shame) with all that I have in my life: a warm home that is certainly not spotless, but safe, a friend who has committed to loving me for the rest of his life (and I believe him), a child who sometimes drives me crazy, but who seems to be good at loving others, birds of beauty that flock to our bird feeder, neighbors we trust and, of course, that when given the option of baking or not baking, I can choose to bake.