A few days ago, a friend of mine, currently studying for her Ph.D, emailed me a letter she was writing in order to apply for a post-doc position. She sent it with the hope that I might offer her my “professional” editing thoughts. I did end up providing some suggestions, but it took me a minute to get there.
My friend studies marine science. Her letter offered insights into her research, utilized italicized scientific names, discussed her theories and how they align with the position she is hoping to achieve. I understood what she was saying on the surface, but the terms she used, Crassostrea madrasensis or Cassiopeia? They were mysteries.
I always find it interesting how certain aptitudes come so easily to some of us while others remain far beyond our reach. I can theorize on art until I’m blue in the face. I can string ideas into pretty-sounding sentences. In school, I was always good at math, and I remember thinking calculus was, embarrassingly, kind of fun. But chemistry? Biology? I had to work to get those A’s.
This same friend that is studying Crassostrea madrasensis also happens to be a master baker. Her chocolate chip cookies have been my favorite since our mid-teens. How funny – or perhaps how fitting – that her abilities should be the exact ones I lack.
Like science, I’m realizing that baking is something I will have to work to get good at. And so I set out this weekend to try my hand at baking pumpkin bread for the very first time.
I take pumpkin bread pretty seriously. I remember my mom baking tiny loaves each year growing up, some to give away, some for the freezer, one for our family. Pumpkin bread was sweet and rich, moist and spicy. It was one of the two seasonal treats I actually enjoyed during my picky childhood [the other was fun-size crunch bars on Halloween, if you're wondering].
This bread isn’t the dessert that I remember from my childhood, but I’m quite happy with it nonetheless. It is different than I expected it to be – less spicy and less dense. It is most definitely a breakfast bread, rather than the dessert that pumpkin breads usually are. After a few slices, I’ve decided I find it really delightful – the pumpkin and molasses are strong, the center moist, the texture airy and light.
While a breakfast bread wasn’t what I set out to do, I think that’s ok. Haven’t a great many scientific discoveries been made by accident? Perhaps baking is no different.
If you happen to try this recipe and it turns out horribly, I’m sorry: I am a novice baker. However, if you try it and like it, could you let me know? I’ve always been a sucker for a good grade.
♦♦♦
whole wheat pumpkin molasses breakfast bread [makes 1 9 x 5 loaf]
A few days ago, a friend of mine, currently studying for her Ph.D, emailed me a letter she was writing in order to apply for a post-doc position. She sent it with the hope that I might offer her my “professional” editing thoughts. I did end up providing some suggestions, but it took me a minute to get there.
My friend studies marine science. Her letter offered insights into her research, utilized italicized scientific names, discussed her theories and how they align with the position she is hoping to achieve. I understood what she was saying on the surface, but the terms she used, Crassostrea madrasensis or Cassiopeia? They were mysteries.
I always find it interesting how certain aptitudes come so easily to some of us while others remain far beyond our reach. I can theorize on art until I’m blue in the face. I can string ideas into pretty-sounding sentences. In school, I was always good at math, and I remember thinking calculus was, embarrassingly, kind of fun. But chemistry? Biology? I had to work to get those A’s.
This same friend that is studying Crassostrea madrasensis also happens to be a master baker. Her chocolate chip cookies have been my favorite since our mid-teens. How funny – or perhaps how fitting – that her abilities should be the exact ones I lack.
Like science, I’m realizing that baking is something I will have to work to get good at. And so I set out this weekend to try my hand at baking pumpkin bread for the very first time.
I take pumpkin bread pretty seriously. I remember my mom baking tiny loaves each year growing up, some to give away, some for the freezer, one for our family. Pumpkin bread was sweet and rich, moist and spicy. It was one of the two seasonal treats I actually enjoyed during my picky childhood [the other was fun-size crunch bars on Halloween, if you're wondering].
This bread isn’t the dessert that I remember from my childhood, but I’m quite happy with it nonetheless. It is different than I expected it to be – less spicy and less dense. It is most definitely a breakfast bread, rather than the dessert that pumpkin breads usually are. After a few slices, I’ve decided I find it really delightful – the pumpkin and molasses are strong, the center moist, the texture airy and light.
While a breakfast bread wasn’t what I set out to do, I think that’s ok. Haven’t a great many scientific discoveries been made by accident? Perhaps baking is no different.
If you happen to try this recipe and it turns out horribly, I’m sorry: I am a novice baker. However, if you try it and like it, could you let me know? I’ve always been a sucker for a good grade.
♦♦♦
whole wheat pumpkin molasses breakfast bread [makes 1 9 x 5 loaf]