At one point, I boasted my baking skills to my grandfather thinking he’d be proud of my new found self sufficiency.
I started out with yeast breads, mastering buttery brioche and various sweet doughs. Whoever walked through my door was greeted and welcomed with the aroma of warm, homemade bread.
Also – thrift, or even the exhibition of it – through perceived activities such as home arts in the culinary manner, was seen as virtuous.
Touching, turning, kneading- that crackling sound when it comes out of the oven. Never in a million years would I think of sourdough as therapeutic.
And what I hope to convey is that bread baking is not only about the end result, it’s about the Making something from nothing.
The advent of easy accessibility to home refrigeration and new-fangled methods of freezing food meant perishables, where possible, were chucked in the ice chest to use as needed.
Mass advertising of goods that became more prevalent in the 1950s began to capture an audience to branded product; and the corporatisation of just about everything possible seemed to be on the rise from the early 1960s (what big business wants people doing it themselves? By the time these factors were combined with a marked rise in time poverty – especially because of women entering the workforce full time in droves – there was no real chance of recovering the decline and ever going back to those halcyon days.