Bread Making Quotes

“I keep notations, like my mother. She had notebook after notebook of trials and errors, all written in her perfect penmanship on quad-ruled pages, a square for each letter to nest in. My journal is a thick black hardcover with unlined pages. Like her, I'm a technician, a statistician, copiously documenting slight variations in texture, color, taste. I'm a chemist. A quarter cup of rye flour added to the white wheat gives a sweeter flavor. A half teaspoon more salt and 78 percent hydration of the dough result in those coveted large, irregular rooms in the crumb. Mastering formulas, not recipes, in the quest for the perfect loaf. Xavier tells me not to bother. He doesn't believe in perfection. "Forget the ingredients. Forget the environment. 'You' are different each day. You can't replicate yourself. Your hands are stronger, or weaker. Your mind thinks different thoughts while kneading. Life is all over you, changing you. All that goes into the making comes out in the bread. It won't be the same from one batch to the next. Not ever."
"It'll be close, though."
"Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades."
He's the artist. He makes me brave enough to try. With his encouragement, I've focused on the creativity of bread, writing my own recipes, exploring nontraditional flavors and shapes. Not all of them turn out well, but he tastes my failures with me, with layers of warm butter.”
― Christa Parrish, Stones For Bread

“For a few moments, the women sat together in companionable quiet, the only sounds that of birdsong and hoofbeats and wagon wheels from outside. The dough rounding between Vienne's palms was smooth and soft, and the sight of the rolls filling the pan Paulette set on the table offered a certain satisfaction. Life remained complex and unreliable, but this was simple and predictable. A comfort.”
― Jocelyn Green, A Refuge Assured

“I shape the dough, all of these boules. The plain Wild Rise sourdough, though nothing about it can be considered plain- it's simply unadorned to spotlight the complex flavors- is left to proof in bannetons, the coiled willow of the basket leaving its distinctive pattern on the crust even after baking. The dark, earthy Farmhouse miche is freestanding boule, nearly four pounds, formed and left on linen 'couches.' I chop ripe pears and knead those into the third dough, along with cardamom and fresh ginger, to make the Spiced Anjou. Tomorrow I'll add a candied pear slice to the top, to bake into the crust- Xavier's idea. And finally the Sweet Chèvre, with its sharp goat cheese and fig filling.”
― Christa Parrish, Stones For Bread