The Taste of Something Remembered

The Stories Seeds Carry

My days look different lately.

I still begin each morning the same way, in prayer, in gratitude.

Grateful for another day of sobriety.
Grateful for the path I am walking.
Grateful for the gift of healing.

Even grateful for the grief and the loss.

Because those, too, are woven into my story.

Not separate from it.
Part of it.

Keeping It Simple…Or Trying To

As I prepare for the market, I find myself walking that line again.

The one between simplicity and the desire to make everything just right.

Every baker I’ve spoken to says the same thing:

Keep it simple.

Start small.
Do a few things well.
Let it grow over time.

And I hear them.

I do.

But there is something in me that wants each loaf, each offering, to reflect the care behind it. The intention. The heart.

Not perfection.

But something close to it.

Why Seeded Bread

One thing I’ve noticed is that almost every sourdough baker has a seeded loaf on their menu.

There is something about it that feels grounding.

Hearty.
Substantial.
Honest.

A while back, a customer asked me to make a rye bread.

And if I’m being honest, it may be my favorite loaf I’ve ever made.

The Memory in the Loaf

When I opened the oven door and smelled that first sourdough rye, I wasn’t in my kitchen anymore.

I was back in San Francisco.

With my dad.

He used to take me to his favorite place, Tommy’s Joynt.

A New York-style deli on Geary Street. The kind of place with history in its walls and stories in every booth.

I remember the sandwiches stacked impossibly high, pastrami piled to the ceiling.

I remember the way my dad carried himself there.

He knew people.
He belonged there.

They would talk about sports, about coaches, about San Francisco, and I would sit beside him, just taking it all in.

Those were our moments.

Simple.

But unforgettable.

Why I Do This

Standing in my kitchen, holding that rye loaf, I realized something.

This is why I do what I do.

Not just to bake bread.

But to create something that carries meaning.

Something that connects.

Because bread has always done that.

It connects us to places, to people, to moments we didn’t know we would carry forever.

Adding It to the Table

So yes, seeded breads are making their way onto my market menu.

Not because I feel like I should.

But because they belong there.

Because they tell a story.

Because they carry something more than ingredients.

Flour.
Water.
Salt.
Seeds.
Time.

And somewhere in that process, memory.

An Invitation

If you find yourself at the market this season, you’ll find me at Booth 43.

And among the loaves, there will be one that carries a little more weight.

A seeded loaf.
A rye.
A piece of my story, shared quietly.

Because in the end, that’s what this has always been about.

Not just feeding people.

But connecting.

One loaf at a time.

Warmly,
Kathy
Art of The Crumb