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July 1 was a big day for me, work-wise, because it was the beginning of our new bread schedule.
This was much more exciting than the previous sentence might indicate. When I became the bakery manager lo those many years ago I inherited a bread schedule that stayed the same week after week as it rolled through the year. I kept to that schedule with only minor alterations because, as received wisdom, it was immune to questions. But this spring I was casting around for ideas to make the Bakery even better and I came up with the idea of adding new yeast breads to the schedule. This led to the following chain of thought: I can't add new breads, the schedule is full already. So take off some of the old ones. But that would change the schedule! And? So? Those breads are good, but people see them all the time. Change things up! But that would change the schedule! Bakery managers have that power, you know. I...I...
After I got over the shock of realizing that if continents could shift, so could breads, I started work on the project. For July I developed two new breads (Sweet Chocolate {yes, that is really a yeast bread} and Apricot Wheat Germ. I brought back a bread we used to make, dropped a few to make room, and shifted some of the breads that were staying so that they appeared at a different part of the week. Then I had to deal with all of the paperwork to support the change: putting up announcements on Facebook so our customers had some warning, getting a new bread schedule sign made, etc, etc. In addition, I had decided this was the perfect reason to kick into gear the new-bread-labels-and-shelf-sign project that has been hovering about my desk for a year or so. Which, of course, generated more paperwork. Not to mention proofreading. (I read the label proofs over carefully several times, then gave them to two bakery staffers to check, and I'm still waiting to see what mistakes got past me. I know there has to be at least one.)
The scariest part of this is that having begun, I must continue. For the foreseeable future I will need to come up with a few new breads each month, so that we have a growing list of breads to rotate in and out as the months go by. It's scary partly because it's something that will have to be done regardless of vacations, holiday baking demands, illness, and missing dishwashers.
But to be honest, the really scary thing is how much I am looking forward to this. I came to this job through bread-making, and yeast breads continue to be my favorite thing in the world to make. Assigning myself the task of creating new bread recipes almost seems like cheating. On the other hand, my boss, her boss, and my staff all think that new recipes are a good idea, so I'll just have to live with the joy of making bread.
This was much more exciting than the previous sentence might indicate. When I became the bakery manager lo those many years ago I inherited a bread schedule that stayed the same week after week as it rolled through the year. I kept to that schedule with only minor alterations because, as received wisdom, it was immune to questions. But this spring I was casting around for ideas to make the Bakery even better and I came up with the idea of adding new yeast breads to the schedule. This led to the following chain of thought: I can't add new breads, the schedule is full already. So take off some of the old ones. But that would change the schedule! And? So? Those breads are good, but people see them all the time. Change things up! But that would change the schedule! Bakery managers have that power, you know. I...I...
After I got over the shock of realizing that if continents could shift, so could breads, I started work on the project. For July I developed two new breads (Sweet Chocolate {yes, that is really a yeast bread} and Apricot Wheat Germ. I brought back a bread we used to make, dropped a few to make room, and shifted some of the breads that were staying so that they appeared at a different part of the week. Then I had to deal with all of the paperwork to support the change: putting up announcements on Facebook so our customers had some warning, getting a new bread schedule sign made, etc, etc. In addition, I had decided this was the perfect reason to kick into gear the new-bread-labels-and-shelf-sign project that has been hovering about my desk for a year or so. Which, of course, generated more paperwork. Not to mention proofreading. (I read the label proofs over carefully several times, then gave them to two bakery staffers to check, and I'm still waiting to see what mistakes got past me. I know there has to be at least one.)
The scariest part of this is that having begun, I must continue. For the foreseeable future I will need to come up with a few new breads each month, so that we have a growing list of breads to rotate in and out as the months go by. It's scary partly because it's something that will have to be done regardless of vacations, holiday baking demands, illness, and missing dishwashers.
But to be honest, the really scary thing is how much I am looking forward to this. I came to this job through bread-making, and yeast breads continue to be my favorite thing in the world to make. Assigning myself the task of creating new bread recipes almost seems like cheating. On the other hand, my boss, her boss, and my staff all think that new recipes are a good idea, so I'll just have to live with the joy of making bread.
