"We are all hungry and food is the ultimate path to love" - Q&A with Baker & Author Sarah Owens
I will always remember the first time I opened a book by Sarah Owens. It was Sourdough, not only her first book, but a book that won her a James Beard award. There was something incredible in those pages. Not just a guide to baking with sourdough, but an approach to understanding and appreciating the world as a whole. Within the recipes and guidelines for making bread, there was an artistic voice that resonated with me, one that made the links between food, nature, and community. Even if you didn’t want to go into the kitchen, her cookbooks are ones that you can read simply for the pleasure of her words.
Owens is the same in person as she is on the page, and we have been fortunate enough to have her words in Comestible. You may remember her essay on election cakes in Issue 3 (which should be timely again for 2020).
She’s now out with a new book, Heirloom: Time-Honored Techniques, Nourishing Traditions, and Modern Recipes, which dives into everything from fermenting to baking with local grain. I remember us discussing the idea for this book several years ago when she was in Seattle for an event, and it’s wonderful to see it come to fruition. As she writes in the introduction, “As much as I love a juicy-ripe, thick slice of heirloom tomato, this is not just another book singing the praises of heirloom tomatoes. While those beloved plump orbs of the nightshade family are indeed a fine place to begin our exploration into the superior flavor that most heirloom plants possess, this book encompasses more substantial topics. I would like to introduce the idea of the heirloom kitchen as a space that honors not just the best ingredients but also the techniques and wisdom of our ancestors.”
I caught up with her to dive a little deeper into her work and what drives her.
Anna Brones: When we meet people, we often ask "what do you do?" The subtext there is "what do you do for work?" I think that culturally we have placed a lot (too much) value on work, but I know that for some of us, the boundaries between professional and personal are often quite blurry and what we do for work is very much a reflection of who we are. Who is Sarah Owens and what does she do for work, and how do the two intersect?
Sarah Owens: What I do now and have done for work in the past has always been more of a lifestyle than a job, whether it be baking for my community, working as a curator of roses, or as a ceramic artist. Although sometimes this can feel consuming, I have always been so thankful to be living my passion rather than just working a job to make ends meet. It has been important to work in a way that feels grounded and centered through repetitive, sometimes menial motions that ultimately improve the quality of life for others. There are obvious pros and cons to living this way including a massive amount of unpredictability as a freelancer. I am however always challenged! I've been fortunate to steer my path so that my interests in culture, regenerative agriculture, and food systems intertwine with my daily tasks of baking or writing.
This book tour marks a new and transitional phase that will last about a year, coming on the heels of relocating from NYC to Northern California. While the Cook the Farm Workshop project in Sebastopol is being built and will ultimately be my base for teaching and baking again, I'm letting go of the stability that production baking can bring to both my personal center but also my professional life. As I extend myself to others in a different way through teaching while touring, I'm able to return to other activities such as scuba diving, paddle boarding, and hiking that round out who I am personally and keep me connected to the rhythms of nature in a different way.
Speaking of work, you have worn a lot of professional hats (ceramicist, horticulturist, baker). Is there any common thread that ties them all together?
Working with my hands and the forces of nature have been the tie that binds all of these professional experiences together. I love being subjected to the particularities of time, temperature, humidity, and the variations of natural ingredients/mediums that reflect a sense of place. It makes me feel that I am a part of the Whole and connected in a kind of divine way that transcends who I am as an individual.
You just released your third book Heirloom: Time-Honored Techniques, Nourishing Traditions, and Modern Recipes. What inspired the creation of that book? What do you want people to get out of it?
Heirloom is a deeply personal book that reflects not only a fascination with techniques and ingredients that have old world qualities but how to reflect this knowledge with a modern sensibility. This book slows you down to question not only how to nourish our own bodies but also our soils and ultimately what our communities need to thrive in the long term.
Obviously as a baker I am smitten with the aromas and flavors of heirloom grains but I wanted to push beyond the romanticism of these ingredients to look at the practicalities of farming, the value of biodiversity in an otherwise monoculture landscape, and to encourage people to open their minds and hearts to the customs of cultures different than their own. Often, traditional recipes have deep ties intertwined with the seasons or a sense of place and a strong emphasis on fermentation, preservation, and keeping a scrupulous kitchen that avoids waste. This is the focus of the recipes and techniques of Heirloom that include baking but also working with porridges, vegetables, and animal products.
I took notice of your dedication at the front of the book: "This book is dedicated to the small organic farmer, the miller, the community-supported baker, and the fervent locavore." These are all labels that feel very modern, indicative of our shift to more localized foods and food economies. And yet, it's a very old way of eating. It reminds me of a quote from Yvon Chouinard in the film 180South, “The solution may be for a lot of the world’s problems is to turn around and take a forward step." Would you agree with that sentiment? How have you honored that wisdom and heritage while at the same time cultivating and supporting a modern food culture?
As someone who travels internationally to teach baking workshops and lead discussions about this very topic, I've seen the same story repeated as a different narrative all over the world. We are all realizing our commodity food systems are no longer nourishing us either because of illness or being directly impacted by the negative impacts of pesticides, fertilizers, or depleted soils that are results of these systems. As we seek better ingredients and methods of preparation, there is no one blanket solution to remedy these industrial problems and rebuild strong localized agriculture. Each community has to engage and cooperate to find what makes the most sense for everyone. We can't just simply say the old ways are better; it takes new voices and new ideas to bring regenerative farming, stone milling, slow fermenting, and mindful eating into the mainstream of our modern lives with economic sustainability.
Ultimately, this requires a great deal of risk by everyone involved. The farmer must have faith that unfamiliar seed will grow and produce worthwhile yields for an often undefined market, the miller must learn new ways of processing these less standardized varieties, the baker has to redefine methods of fermentation that fit the quirks of a localized ingredient, and the consumer has to release expectations instilled by decades of industrialized food-like products. Each person in this codependent chain must agree to flex and be innovative, even when we are considering how the grain itself or the methods of growing and processing it are as old as the beginning of agricultural time.
Often my role is to clear the path and sound the call to assemble. Over the last six months this has literally meant organizing a time and place, whether it be in Bogota, Washington D.C., or Portland, OR for key players to come together with a wider consumer audience. It is incredible what can happen when the farmer or the baker has a voice and we signal we are ready to listen by simply showing up to the same table.
You travel a lot for work, teaching workshops from Mexico to Sicily to The Republic of Georgia. What are some lessons that you get from traveling and connecting with people over food?
We are all hungry and food is the ultimate path to love. Sometimes I think this sounds overly simplistic but ultimately, we all want to love and be loved. By making or engaging in a home cooked meal with others, we are sharing our values, our histories, our cultures. It is the easiest path to understanding and to nourishment that has long lasting ties.
Baker, writer, teacher... you do work which requires a lot of creativity. What do you do to stay creatively inspired?
As a teacher, it's important for me to step out of that role as often as possible to learn from others. That has become easier, especially when I travel. Often people anticipate my arrival and reach out to share their family's recipe, folk medicine, or an old cooking technique that they're applying in a new way. Most recently I met a couple who live in Nariño, Colombia that are fermenting corn rather than using nixtamalization to make it more digestible, nutritionally accessible, and ultimately more delicious. We had the best time sharing a kitchen even if my Spanish is limited and their English is the same. By connecting with like-minded people using ingredients or techniques I may be unfamiliar with helps me to keep my mind open and fresh to creative ideas.
What is your favorite thing that you have baked recently?
Having traveled frequently in Latin America, I have become enchanted with maiz and its many different varieties, colors, textures, and flavors. There are many heritage varieties that are being revived in the states as well and I love testing them all in the same recipes and comparing their flavors and textures. My favorite comfort food has become a variation of Marion Cunningham's Custard Corn Cake where I first ferment the batter with sourdough, make it a tad bit sweet with panela (unrefined cane sugar), and add seasonal fruit. Served warm with honey or maple syrup, it's so satisfying and perfect for the cooler months.
What are some bakeries/bakers/flour companies/etc that you are excited about these days?
I recently did an event at Seylou Bakery and Mill in D.C. that reinforced the idea that you don't have to compromise your values to run a baking business. To say it isn't easy to constantly be working with ingredients (including flour) that vary with the season is an understatement and it takes a lot of guts and perseverance to make it work commercially. The team there is working with all locally grown whole grains and legumes in an old world but very innovative fashion. They've really come a long way in honing their craft of both bread and pastry since they opened a few years ago because they've stayed true to their vision. The community they're building around these delicious and nourishing foods directly supports sound agricultural practices. It is just beautiful.
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Seattle friends! Sarah and I will be in conversation on the evening of November 6 at Book Larder. The event is free but be sure to RSVP.
You can also purchase Heirloom from your local independent bookstore. And be sure to give Sarah a follow on Instagram, and learn about her upcoming events.
