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For My Dough-la Boulange
We in the Western world have used symbols of bread and wheat as our foundations of life….. “Give us this day…” Bread for us has put us in the dilemma of the sacred and the profane.
When the aroma of the bread comes from the fires of the oven, it takes on an apotheceosis; it transforms us and we regard it as a most holy moment, an epiphany…sacred.
But what has happened to our bread, to our taste for the real live whole grains that made life-giving loaves crusty, crunchy, chewy?
We lost it somewhere along the way and opted for genetically altered, convenient fluff, still called bread. This is the profane.
Fear not. There is a light burning in a bastion of bread making called La Boulange, specializing in yeast free, gluten free, and even wheat free breads, using the ancient levain method to leaven and bake. One of the top ten levain master bakers in France brought it to the Island.
The rustic converted barn on the edge of Qualicum, at the heart of it, a giant rotisserie over against the wall, with rows of rolling shelves filled with baking loaves of kamut, spelt, rye, seven grain flax, raisin and nut, French baguettes. Sitting cooling, yet another set of racks, of bread just taken from the oven, filling the bakery with that age old aroma, laden with memories, and pure rapture.
Amongst this labyrinth is owner, John, darting in and out, tapping the crusts, smelling it, making sure it is perfect. He might then sit down against a sack of organic rye flour and play his flute!
Never mind the memories! I was having a here and now taste test in the farm house with its large kitchen, and black cat lounging in a chair (called “4×6” because he has six toes on each foot).
A spirited outpouring of information by John, who is passionate about the process and his product, and whose eyes glow as he recounts the history of it, left me enthralled for an hour. But just in time, Jean came out with a sourdough, freshly baked with garlic cloves inside. When you hold the whole loaf in your hand you can feel the weight, see the uneven folding of the brown crust, smell the peasant soul emanating from the steam.
You rip into it and take a crusty corner, to have with butter and homemade preserves, or with sliced meats, cheeses, sliced fresh garden tomatoes and onions. It is basic manna from earth.