Friends With Pens: A Father’s Labor Of Love

Editor’s Note: If one thing has become clear during these recent historical events in our country, it’s that many people don’t appreciate the concepts of “compassion,” “humility,” “loyalty,” or “solidarity.” A Momma & Her Pen believes wholeheartedly in supporting others and championing their personal and business ventures. We all have a style, we all have a voice, and we all have a story that deserves to be shared. That’s why I’m partnering with professionals from various walks of life in a special guest column series titled “Friends With Pens.” This is a chance for these talented individuals to share their perspective and promote their accomplishments, all of which are noteworthy and amazing. The ideas, observations, and opinions expressed herein are entirely those of the writer. A Momma & Her Pen hopes you enjoy this special series.

By Nick Manno

Who doesn’t love the smell of fresh-baking bread? The only thing better is EATING freshly baked bread.

I’ve had a love affair with bread since I was a kid, when my mom would send me out each day to buy anywhere from two to four loaves. I always went to this one particular bakery, and only at certain times of the day to ensure we would get that day’s fresh bread, not any of the old, stale loaves from the day before. This happened Every. Single. Day. And, of course, the bakery was about a mile from our home; buying bread from the bakery right up our block was simply unacceptable, to my mom and the rest of us eating the bread.

Back then, I hated this responsibility because it cut a significant chunk out of my outside play time. It probably took less than an hour, round trip, but to a kid that’s an eternity! So, naturally, I saw fit to pay myself with nibbles of this fresh bread while I trudged back home, a little off the top here, a little off the bottom there, but never too much because if my mom noticed she would make me march right back out to buy another one. But let me tell you, it was so hard not eating that entire loaf, so warm, so tasty, and smelling so good. It was heaven right there in my hands.

Why am I reminiscing on this story now? Well … because I’ve recently rekindled this love affair with bread, only now I’m not walking a mile for a freshly baked loaf. No, this time, I’ve upped the ante. This time, as an adult and a father whose children are following in his footsteps with their love of all things carb, especially bread, I BAKE my own from scratch. And let me tell you, it is no easy task. In fact, it is quite frustrating, but I am not one to give up so easily when I put my mind to something, particularly when it concerns bread.

My endeavor began a few years ago with an experiment to make my own sourdough starter and then morphed into this almost obsession to branch out and perfect my learned and self-taught techniques (for example, I’ve learned there’s no real recipe for how to knead a dough—it’s all about the feel of the dough as you’re actually doing it). Along the way, there were many, many wasted “trial and error” attempts at making any crusty loaf of homemade goodness. In the beginning, I would describe my bread as more of a “brick,” a “paper-weight,” or a “door-stop.” My wife was more forgiving, though, gushing about how delicious my breads were and always encouraging my efforts. After every try I swore it would be my last, but something inside wouldn’t let me give up. My mantra became “OK, just one more time”—it was a true labor of love. Besides, my children always begged for more, and I’m too much of a softie to refuse them, especially over something that brought me so much happiness when I was a child.

Flash forward more than three years later and I’m finally starting to feel confident in my technique and my consistency. Nowadays I bake everything from sourdough French or country loaves, to milk bread, to dinner rolls, to white or wheat American bread, to dark beer or oat bread, to even bagels! They are all pretty damn delicious if I do say so myself, but if I had to pick one as my favorite it would be my naan bread slathered in warm garlic butter, which I love using to sop up a delicious bowl of my wife’s chicken tikka masala (or as my kids call it ”chicken tickle my sally,” LOL).

When I consider all the hours I’ve spent baking bread—and the many times I’ve failed at it!—it reminds me how far I’ve come. Most people probably would have given up a looong time ago. I wanted to also, but my passion pushed me on. Not a passion for baking, although I do love losing myself in kneading a dough to perfection, but because I want my kids to experience the same joy I felt as a child from a simple piece of warm, freshly baked bread—it is a literal slice of heaven, food for the soul. Every time my efforts flopped, that thought would play over and over in my mind. I’m not sure why it’s so important to me. I guess it’s because kids’ lives seem so much more complicated these days, if that makes sense. Today’s children grow up too fast and are faced with way too much responsibility at a young age, growing up with all this new and improved technology and schooling that seems to start earlier and earlier.

I want more for my kids. I want them to appreciate the beauty of homemade food, and the patience and effort that goes with it. Not to mention the pride that comes with using your own two hands to provide nourishment for your family, or even the peace you feel when you’re doing something that quiets your mind, like baking or cooking. As much as I hated those daily bread runs as a kid, that’s what they gave me: peace of mind, a chance to remove myself from my daily routines, and alone time with my thoughts. I had nothing better to do on those long walks than reflect on those things that matter to a child (like coming home after school or from a long day of playing outside and being hit with the aroma of a delicious home-cooked meal simmering on the stove and knowing my family would be enjoying that meal around the dinner table later that night), all while munching on a delicious, freshly baked loaf of bread. That’s what home feels like to me and I want that for my kids, as well.

I think that’s the best part about making bread—aside from the smell that permeates our whole house and immediately transports me back to my childhood—the look on my children’s faces as they ask literally 100 times if the bread is ready and then again when they take that first bite, as if it’s pure heaven!! Honestly, I love that look on anyone’s face when it comes to my breads. The satisfaction it gives me as a dad and a baker is second to none, and that is the impetus for continuing to up my game, to attempt new and more challenging types of bread, and maybe even build an outdoor wood-fired brick oven to give my breads a more “authentic” feel. I know my kids would love helping their dad whip up breads and pizzas out in the backyard. That’s my ultimate dream; maybe one day.

Looking back, I’m glad I never gave up on my efforts because I’ve come to realize my bread-baking experience is so much more than simply mixing ingredients and molding and baking them into loaves. My breads are my family’s sustenance, not just for their bodies but for their souls. Being able to nourish my wife and kids using my own two hands means everything to me. Plus, it’s like I’m carrying a little piece of my mom, who loves showing her affection by making home-cooked Italian meals, and my childhood. That’s what I hope to instill in my kids, this passion for food. I hope we never lose that comforting feeling conjured up by simply smelling and eating some freshly baked bread, even well into our old age. And that we always hold onto that bit of crusty heaven and the sense of home we all discovered and nurtured together as a family.

Oh, what a legacy that would be!

About The Author:

Nick Manno is a clinical pharmacist by day and a full-time father, husband, bread-baker, and connoisseur of all things delicious by night (and day, too, for that matter)! He is a huge car aficionado, enjoys tackling any and all home-improvement projects, and would willingly take up permanent residence at the local Home Depot–if permitted, of course. Nick lives in New Jersey with his wife (me!!) and two children.

If you’re interested in submitting your own narrative or in recommending/promoting a friend, please email me at amommaspen@gmail.com. I am beyond excited to work with all of you on this collaboration project! Happy writing!