This year for my family Christmas dinner, I wanted to try something a little different. I decided to bake bread. And not just any bread. My Grammie Johnson’s recipe. I recall the many hours I spent with her as a child, watching her knead, punch and bake the yummiest bread ever! Now, normally I’m a whole grain-flax seedy-sprouted-really healthy and good for you kind of bread girl. This recipe has none of that and is simply white bread in all it’s carby goodness. The recipe paper was so well used and folded over, that it was translucent in parts and held some strange directions – boil water, then cool to warm, then add sugar and yeast to proof. I’m guessing that’s a carry over from the “get the water from the crick” days. But I did it anyway. I didn’t want to change a thing from her recipe that’s been handed down. I loved the whole process… deciphering the seemingly bizarre instructions, kneading the dough, seeing it rise and the best part – punching down the giant mound of dough. It made me feel connected to my grandmother, even though she lives far away in New Brunswick. I liked how slow the process was. No microwave. No rushing the rising. Just many hours dedicated to creating something connected to my family’s history for people to enjoy around the Christmas dinner table. And the bread – it turned out to be quite delicious if I do say so myself.
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