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Bread Without Religion
May 2026 — on six years of weekly home bread, with no starter, no schedule, and no rituals
It is Friday evening. There are two loaves of bread cooling on an IKEA pan-holder in my kitchen. One is white. One is volkoren — what a Dutch baker calls wholewheat and what an American tourist might phonetically render as whoooollleee weaaaatt. They will both be quartered with a Swiss manual slicer, dropped into small plastic bags, and stacked in the freezer in front of me. This has been the workflow every Friday for about six years now.