At the desk, 11:17 a.m.
I truly love to bake.This morning, I made cinnamon rolls using this amazing (and fast) recipe from Sumo's Sweet Stuff.
It's a kind of meditative process. I start with focusing my attention the wheat growing in the fields, the machine that harvested it from the stalks, the mill that ground it, and all of the people who ran the machines including the person who set the bag of flower on the shelf at Safeway in 5 points. From there, I move on to the cinnamon trees that grew this gorgeous cinnamon or the sugar cane which was ground into sugar somewhere in the United States.
Since yeast is the only living creature in my cinnamon rolls, I think of it's little single cell and all the work it does to exist. Yeast is hardy enough to come all the way from wherever it was made to my kitchen. It springs to light with a little warmth and sugar to eat. That's pretty incredible to me.
I think about the cows who gave the milk that became the butter and the hens who laid the eggs for dough. I often get a little stuck on the hens because I'd love to have chickens in our backyard, but I'm not sure I'm up for the work of them. I think about my friends who have started raising chickens. I wonder how many we could have and if I would be able to get them from the chicken rescue services (probably).
Like all meditative practices, sometimes my mind slips and I think about a problem I might be having, a story I'm stuck on, or my latest insecurity. When I can, I catch myself and direct it back to the food. Who made the pans the cinnamon rolls are cooked on? How is parchment paper made? There are plenty of hard working people to thank for the bounty that is cinnamon rolls.
Stick them in the oven (who made that? and where?), clean up, and 12 minutes later, they arrive - warm and wonderful.
Would you like one?