Today was supposed to be BREAD DAY.
I could not wait to get my hands dirty in sticky, wet flours.
I was ready to wrestle with glutenin and gliadin.
I was even looking forward to the sting my nose from the sour yeast. And of course, the aroma of browning crust in the oven.
Chef Priscilla Martell, veteran bread maker and bakery owner, gave excellent demos in the morning – slapping the dough on the table, forming bagels, kneading and mixing, revealing the threads in the live, natural starter. What an exciting day ahead of us, right?
EXCITING? SURE. BUT NOT QUITE WHAT I HAD IN MIND.
Just as we set up our stations in the kitchen, a shadow fell over me. I felt strange.
Am I seeing things? Everything looks…hazy. Is it smoke? What is falling from the celiling? Are you seeing it too? OH MY GOODNESS, EVERYONE OUT!!!!!!!!!!!
No, it was not a fire. Thank goodness.
Something about the vents reversing, blowing gross dust particles into the entire industrial kitchen. We all were sneezing and coughing. My chef coat was covered in “soot” or whatever it was.
And in result, bread day, you could say, ran away from us.
Gluten 1, Sonia, 0.
Instead, I walked home in the lovely seventy-five degree weather, made a coconut milk mocha milkshake, and took a nap in supta baddha konasana next to the window, with a blanket of sun streaming across my waist.
Bread Day to be continued. All is well.