Preserving the old ways from being used
Protecting the new ways for me and you
What more can we do
The Kinks – “The Village Green Preservation Society”
Historic preservation can play many angles because its definitions vary according to individuals and organizations. There tends to be no limit on its tangential factors, something that makes preservation ideals understandable and applicable to anyone. This might be more apparent to me since moving to Vermont – I haven’t quite decided yet. However, consider Jennifer Parson’s article from the latest PiP Newsletter which talked about preservation in the sense of agricultural preservation, not like preserving vegetables for the winter, but continuing to use heirloom seeds, thus preserving the variety of agriculture, whether vegetables, fruit, or larger crops.
Vermonters* seem to take pride in self sufficiency and of course, environmental friendliness (one bumper sticker claims Vermont as being green before green was cool). There’s definitely a different vibe in Vermont. Or maybe this vibe is everywhere now and I’ve only noticed it here. That’s sort of beside the point. People I have met here, including the above mentioned Jen Parsons, have inspired me to take on more traditional tasks as hobbies. One recent endeavor is bread making. There is nothing better than fresh bread, right? And in the vein of finding ways to save money, attempting to not support giant food distribution companies, and figuring out how to avoid preservatives of our current food supply, bread seemed like an easy first step. I also love to bake.
Bread and preservation, huh? Really? Yes, it’s relevant. No, I’m not using a historic recipe (unless Fannie Farmer counts!) or an old oven of any sort. Learning to bake bread is easiest by attempting regular white bread. But something about it is just so satisfying. Perhaps it’s kneading the dough or considering that maybe one day I will not have to grocery store packaged bread. It’s just a basic food source that people have been making and eating for centuries. And the house I live in is old enough that many owners and tenants have probably made bread by hand more than a few times.
My very first loaf of homemade bread. It might not look like anything special, but it was surprisingly delicious!
I think part of appreciating historic preservation in all of its form comes not only from studying dwellings and the surroundings and reading the environment, but by participating in history in some manner. And the process of bread making: mixing ingredients, letting the dough rise for hours (in some recipes), kneading the dough, watching it bake, smelling the delicious scent of fresh made bread, and sharing it can connect you to everyone in history. So by learning to make homemade bread, I feel as though I can pass on a time honored tradition, and that has immense value on its own.
Bread loaf #4. Still not impressive looking, but tasted great.
I do not expect to be a great bread baker anytime in the near future, but it's sure fun to practice.
Additionally, since beginning this learning process of bread making, I have discovered that many friends also bake their own bread – perhaps there is a resurgence of bread making. What a pleasant discovery! I wonder what else people are producing on their own in small attempt at self sufficiency (or health or economics).
*Disclaimer: I cannot yet claim to be a Vermonter. Actually, being named a true Vermonter takes about seven generations so there goes my chance. Still, I love Vermont, even if I’m labeled a “flatlander” or “white plater.”