I remember learning about yeast as a kid and being simultaneously fascinated and distressed. “It’s alive?” I would ask over and over. “And then we’re killing it?” (This preoccupation with eating living things perhaps foreshadowed my adoption of vegetarianism years later.) As I understood it, the little yeasts were asleep, then we woke up them up and let them gorge themselves, and then killed them in the oven. Their dying gasps let out air bubbles that made the bread rise. I did not like this image. I didn’t see why we couldn’t just use baking powder instead.
This one's about yeast
This one's about yeast
This one's about yeast
I remember learning about yeast as a kid and being simultaneously fascinated and distressed. “It’s alive?” I would ask over and over. “And then we’re killing it?” (This preoccupation with eating living things perhaps foreshadowed my adoption of vegetarianism years later.) As I understood it, the little yeasts were asleep, then we woke up them up and let them gorge themselves, and then killed them in the oven. Their dying gasps let out air bubbles that made the bread rise. I did not like this image. I didn’t see why we couldn’t just use baking powder instead.