The Barri (more than one Barrus): Bread Making

Last month for our Relief Society activity, we had a service auction. Anyone who chose could volunteer a service of some sort, and those who were interested in receiving the service could "bid" on it. They didn't really handle it like an auction, but everyone was given thirty slips of paper with their name on it, and if you wanted something, you could put your name in a jar and hope you were chosen.

One of the items on offer was a loaf of sourdough bread made by a brother in our ward who recently celebrated his 90th birthday. He regularly makes this bread, and I have had it several times at various functions. It is super delicious. Of my 30 names, I think I put 25 of them into the jar for the loaf of bread, and as there were two loaves on offer, I thought I had a pretty good chance. I put two more names in a jar for snickerdoodle cookies, and the other three in a jar for a photography lesson. I was hopeful. To make everything fair, you could only be selected once, and as luck would have it, my name was drawn for the cookies, the jar before they chose for the bread. I was pleased with the cookies which were very tasty and which the children enjoyed, but I was fairly disappointed about the bread.

When I came home and recounted my sad experience to Kent as we had cookies and milk (I know, I know! It's not all bad), he said, "Why don't you ask Brother Horrocks to teach you how to make the bread? And ask him soon, because he's not getting any younger. Neither are you."

It was good advice, and the following Sunday, I asked him if he would teach me, along with two other friends, Maureen Ogles and Eva Fisher. He agreed, a time was set up, and at the end of last month, Maureen, Eva, and I went to the Horrocks for sourdough bread making instruction. It was a sweet morning. Brother Horrocks was ten when his mother was inspired to begin teaching him how to do household things, like cook and do the laundry, and other stuff. When he was thirteen, his mother died, and as the oldes of six children, much of the household running fell to him. The bread he was showing us how to make was not his mother's recipe, but they did make bread starter from potatoes, creating a sour dough. It is the second marriage for both Brother and Sister Horrocks, so we got to hear all about how they met and their courtship. Plus, when all was said and done, we got to take home half a loaf each of wonderful sourdough bread and our own starter.

I decided I wanted to give it a try, so last week I made bread, and this week I did again. I must confess, Brother Horrocks' recipe is right on because I was able to duplicate the bread both times. My loaves have looked beautiful and tasted so yummy I have had a hard time not snarfing down the whole loaf all by myself in one sitting. Last week, when Kent got home and a fresh loaf was sitting on the counter to have with dinner, he sat down and began cutting off small pieces to munch on while he waited for soup to be finished. After his fourth piece, he said, "I can't stop eating this." I totally understood, because I couldn't stop eating it either. I'm so grateful for Brother Horrocks taking the time to share his tips and secrets.

I must further confess that the process of making his bread is rather time consuming. You have to have your start out on the counter for two days prior to using it, and you have to feed it twice a day. Then, after you've mixed the dough together, it has to sit in the fridge overnight to develop a more sour flavor, and then it has to rise the next day on the counter before you cook it. Both times I have begun the process, I have felt like making a grand announcement, "PAY ATTENTION! I AM MAKING BREAD. YES, I AM MAKING BREAD." Not that most of the people I live with much care, but Kent was appreciative, so I should be content.