An Ode to Bread

“bread and theater belong together. For a long time the theater arts have been separated from the stomach... Entertainment was meant for the skin. Bread was meant for the stomach. The old rites of baking, eating and offering bread were forgotten. The bread became mush...The bread shall remind you of the sacrament of eating. We want you to understand that theater is not yet an established form, not the place of commerce you think it is, where you pay to get something. Theater is different. It is more like bread, more like a necessity.”

-Peter Schumann, founder of Bread and Puppet Theatre

During the 1960’s in New York, a new form of theatre emerged. Bread and Puppet Theatre, through the use of large whimsical puppets, volunteers, and occasionally music, made statements, both large and small, about the state of the world. The non-profit, still alive today, uniquely offered bread to all onlookers. The idea being that bread and theatre were things needed to nourish and sustain both the human body and soul. The combination of these two served as a reminder of the tradition and importance they were both grounded in. A reminder for active appreciation.

Two of my great passions in life happen to be bread (yes, I’m serious) and theatre, but today I am going to focus just on the former. I love bread. I do. Seriously, its probably one of my favorite foods in the whole world. If I was on a deserted island and could only choose one food to live off of I would probably choose bread. If an evil queen grew jealous of my extraordinary beauty (it happens all the time) and threw me into a dungeon with nothing but bread and water I would probably be just fine. I think you get it. I love bread.

There is something almost mystical about bread too. The cyclical death and rebirth of wheat led early humans to associate bread with having the secret of life. Wheat was placed in the tombs of the ancient Egyptians to ensure eternal being. The Greeks even had a goddess, Demeter, who oversaw the grain and its harvests. Bread has biblical significance as well, symbolizing the “gift of God” and the “body of Christ”. Across the globe bread is associated with fertility as well as luck. Bread seems to lie staunchly at the base of human culture on a global scale.

We live today in a world that is seemingly very divided. I optimistically believe however that there is still a thread of humanity that connects us despite these divisions. I believe that bread is one of these connectors.

Growing up in the US, our bread industry was hardly on the “Proud to be an American” list. Initially, bread in the United States is not very exciting. Bland-sweet, yoga mat like cubes, used as vehicles for sandwich innards. If you are not from the US and are looking for something to snobbishly condemn us for, our bread is probably a good place to start. We actually really aren’t that bad though. Bagels in New York are amazing. If you head to the South you can find Biscuits or Cornbread. Journeying west to San Francisco you can find Sourdough as well. Bread is still an important, though lesser known, part of our culture.

Like most people from this country, I have roots outside of the United States as well. My mother grew up in the United States, but my father grew up in India. Because of this, I have been lucky enough to have been raised with not one, but two bread cultures (are you jealous or what?). It was my grandmother who taught me how to make bread from India. She showed me how to roll out the thin, floury, circles of rotis. She taught me to make Batura. Flattened balls of dough bobbing in oil that puff up to a hollow golden-brown balloon.

I am lucky enough to say that travel has been an important and prevalent part of my life. Bread has of course been an integral part of that travel.

During childhood trips to San Carlos, a small town in northwestern Mexico, my sister and I ate tortillas by the bag. Some that were so thin you could read a book through them. I had the opportunity to visit Mexico City around the time of Day of the Dead where I got to try Pan de Muerto, bread decorated with a crossbone pattern topped with sugar.

For someone as ridiculous as myself, Europe is a sort of Bread Utopia (which is also my future band name). Types of which vary by country, but all, in my experiences, fantastic. In Sweden I ate knackebrod. Dark and crisp crackers which I ate smothered in butter (another passion which I also may someday write an obnoxious article about). In Finland I ate Karelian Pie (not exactly bread, but I’ll count it anyway), rye crusts filled with a rice filling. In Estonia and Denmark I ate dark and dense rye bread. In Belgium, waffles. France, baguettes. Switzerland braided and bready Zopf.

There are still so many places that I would like to visit and so much bread that I would like to eat. For me, bread is an important part of travel because it is an important part of life. What we eat says a lot about our culture and the world that we come from. Our origins are all different but bread seems to be at the root of all of them.

I think the time has come for me to stop ranting about bread. My point is probably obvious by now. At a certain point, no matter where we live or where we come from, we are all people and we all get hungry. At a certain point, (Ok I know, most nutritionists would say that vegetables are better for us and that protein will give us more energy) we all just need some bread.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

"Bread, Symbolism of." Encyclopedia of Food and Culture. . Retrieved July 20, 2017 from Encyclopedia.com: http://www.encyclopedia.com/food/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/bread-symbolism

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