Homemade Bread Memories

I love homemade bread. My mom baked bread every week. Most of the time, she used a mix: half regular white flour and half whole wheat flour. We had a wheat grinder and would purchase whole wheat in bulk. As kids, Mom let us grind the wheat ourselves.

SIDE NOTE: Mom and Dad bought 50-lb bags of wheat from Walton Feed in Montpelier, Idaho. Back then, the feed store in Montpelier sold "food storage" wheat. Since then, Walton Feed spun off Rainy Day Foods as a wholly owned subsidiary, which was later sold as a privately owned business.

The 50-lb bags of wheat we used for grinding

We kept the grinder on a roll-out shelf in the cupboard. The 50-pound bag of wheat lived in a rollout drawer under the bar. Mom would cut a U-shaped hole in the side of the bag so we could scoop out wheat with a measuring cup. We would pour two or three cups into the grinder and fire it up.

Not our actual grinder, but one just like it (Magic Mill)

The metal tray where we poured the wheat before grinding

The stone grinders that turned wheat into flour

Sometimes, instead of her usual 50/50 mix, Mom would make 100% whole wheat bread. Those loaves were dense and hearty. They made great bread and milk when the bread was several days old.

On my mission in Simbach Am Inn, I discovered a bag of whole wheat flour sitting on one of the apartment shelves. I assumed it belonged to my companion, Elder Young, so I left it alone.

In our mission, unless we had an Essen Termin (a dinner appointment), we usually did not eat meals together. Each missionary bought their own groceries and stored them separately. So it made sense that the flour was his.

After two transfers (about two months), Elder Young was reassigned, and Elder Miller became my companion. The flour was still sitting on the shelf. That is when I realized it had never belonged to Elder Young. It was fair game.

Simbach was my second mission city, so I was still in the first six months of my mission. I had not baked bread before, but now I decided I was going to try.

I had never managed the entire process myself: mixing the ingredients, kneading the dough, adding the yeast, and shaping the loaves. Growing up, I had helped Mom with parts of the process, like punching down the dough or putting pans into the oven, but never the whole thing.

I also did not know the German word for yeast. That took some effort. I had to research the word and then ask a store clerk where I could find it. I also had to find some bread pans.

Thankfully, I found a copy of Where’s Mom Now That I Need Her? in the apartment. Elder Young had not taken it with him, so I claimed it for the rest of my mission. It became one of my go-to resources.

The classic missionary cookbook I found
(and kept) in Simbach

SIDE NOTE: Annette and I have purchased newer editions of Where’s Mom Now That I Need Her? for all of our missionaries before they leave home. It is a classic.

I followed the recipe carefully. As the bread baked, it filled our apartment with the most amazing smell. I could hardly wait.

When the timer rang, I pulled the loaves from the oven, removed them from the pans, and set them on the counter to cool. But the temptation was too much. I wanted to try my bread now.

I asked Elder Miller if he would like a slice. He agreed. We sat down with fresh homemade bread, butter, and marmalade.

We ate it all. Every last crumb of both loaves. In about 30 minutes.

It was so good we could not stop.

The next week, Elder Miller and I made another batch of bread. It was just as good and just as dangerous.

I made bread two or three more times during my mission. Each time, the bread was so tasty and such a novelty that I ate it all in one sitting. It just was not financially sustainable to go through that much flour and butter in a single meal. And, truth be told, I felt a little sheepish about my lack of self-control.

So, I stopped.

But oh, that smell. That taste. That moment of warm bread, soft butter, and sweet marmalade—it is one of the happiest little memories from my mission.