Bread – Ken’s and Mine

Ken was such a good cook and baker.  His experience was broad and deep.  He grew up cooing and canning from a garden in his back yard.  His grandmother owned and cooked at the Afton House.  Ken worked in restaurants, a bakery,  pizza shoppe, hospital kitchen, and finally as a private chef for one of the Pillsbury family. 





I grew up in a food family, too.  My maternal grandmother had a garden and froze and canned food.  At church events Flora was asked to bring her baked beans and pies.  She made great doughnuts, cakes, cookies, roasts, egg dishes – a good home cook.  My paternal grandmother was a Swedish cook for private families and institutions.  She did great fish, fancy dishes, and various Swedish specialties like spritz and a type of gingersnap.  My mom cooked as well.  When she went back to work full time I often made dinners once I got home from school if they took time – pot roast, lentil soup, etc.


A few years ago when bread became whiter and more expensive, Ken took on the bread making for the two of us. 










He so enjoyed making bread








I inherited his sourdough starter.  I was anxious as I had been around his bread making, but he worked from a truly intuitive sense developed over years of experience. 






I saved his starter and a friend, Sylvia gave me a day of tutelage.  I appreciate her help.  I am a long way from a beautiful artisan loaf, but I can make a passable nutritious loaf.  So right now the Ken stories are morphing to Ken used to and I am learning to…

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