My Kaleidoscope Bubble: The Enviable

Stare if you must, I'm wonderfully beautiful; coarse and cracked at all the right angles.

Sourdough rye bread

My rugged and tan beauty may not always be universally understood nor sought after because for reasons I cannot fathom, children and some adults prefer my anorexic white bread counterparts. They say that the fluffy texture of those airhead bland beauties are the dreams of a selected majority but little do ‘they’ know that the texture wouldn’t have been made possible without the necessary chemical enhancement so de rigueur in store bought bread. It may not be a coincidence that they are called ‘wonder bread’; I think it is more serendipitous a name. I've often wondered if several chemical mutations later, might they even qualify as bread under a more stringent and discerning judging panel?

Not wanting to sound like sour bread – which incidentally is what I am – I have argued that that there is no beauty in an over-botoxed or hyper plastic surgery on any leggy model. People should love me for my rustic quality. I'm testimony that unadulterated whole grain ingredients can make a darn tasty and wholesome mouthful. What is there not to love about me? Superficially, I look great – I’ve seen those adoring glances that the baker and her lot have thrown at me while exiting the oven; I'm sturdy on the outside but moist when sliced open – a combination so vital and satisfying at the same time. I've heard the delightful crunching against my crust and the grateful hums as my chewy insides meet teeth and tongues.

Home made highly active "sponge" -- fermented flour and water mixture

I wasn't created in a flash, nor churned out with thousands of others in a sterile environment under the tired supervision of disinterested eyes. My predecessors have whispered the secret of my birth as one might have stayed on a little longer on the counter to watch the mystery unfold.

As it turned out, my maker took a few cupfuls of “magic” sponge that had been cultivated and nurtured for over 5 months (and still counting); I've heard this sponge is never allowed to die but even if it did, it could easily be made again with flour and water and a good measure of patience; and it accounts for my tart disposition and sets me apart from lackluster breads made from granules in small sachets. Then, whole grain rye flour, whole wheat flour, bread flour, and salt, were massaged in by hands; by the same fingers that have failed at complicated scales and arpeggios, and palms that have been weathered from hauling bags and children. But those hands have become fairly masterful, from dedicated practice over many tries, at knowing how best to mould me.

Time – my bossom friend – has assisted in my growing and plumping; I have heard -- no less than 5 hours –first, sitting patiently in a big bowl, and then transferred over to a basket couche. Patient diligence was another main conspirator and I was never hurried off to the next stage lest it impeded my growth nor was I left unattended for too long, thereby losing my strength to stand tall. Everyone knows that posture and stance is of great importance on the beauty runway.

The handsome hearth, that welcomed me, was fired up for a good half hour to an extremely high temperature, to aid in hardening and browning of my crust and to boost growth. Twice, I was cooled by a welcome spray of water, then, I continued to sit pretty at a more desirable temperature for my insides to lift and dry.

At the insistent beeping of a counter timer, I was carefully pulled out from my warm cocoon and left to rest on cooling racks, occasionally lovingly patted and admired by our maker and several little cherubic faces. Nothing pleased me more greatly to hear the crowing delight when I was sliced, shared, and savoured after having been tickled by slabs of cold butter and various spreads. I heard I tasted real fine when paired with sharp cheeses and cold meats.

If only you could meet me: I'm the rustic beauty you'll never forget and apparently I'm a deal breaker in the union between our maker and her chap should she ever forget how to re-create me; that’s how powerfully enticing I am!