It's pretty crazy how the time has flown by. When I started baking bread it was incredibly hot outside and I was working at a local fine dining restaurant as garde manger station. I've always wanted to do my own thing, but I never had the slightest clue as to how.
A traditional restaurant was too much of a gamble. Just recently I've had my fair share of heartache and heartbreak over money. In your thirties you make deals like you used to as kids on the playground... but instead of Pokemon cards you're playing with holographic tokens that exist but don't really exist or also known as credit. As I made deals and gambled with more than I suspected I lost big. I'm not bitter though, just hopeful to make up for the lost time more than anything.
So here I am back to making food. I suppose my draw to baking bread is the process. I don't believe anyone is "naturally" good at baking bread. I believe its repetition much like running, which I love to do as well. They're special in a sense that you can fall into a rhythm, a grind, a flow and all of sudden you stop for a moment and realize that
time. has. flown. by.
wow.
Do you ever stop to think about that?