08: Harvest Loaf

Illustration: the autumnal tradition of a Harvest Loaf ©smartigraphicdesign

Cold weather is upon us in Namibia. (The seasonal weather is flipped when you live under the equator.) The desert sun here is still bright. BUT the leaves are falling from some trees and the locals are donning sweaters and boots as the temperature drops in the morning and evening hours. So while my family in the northern hemisphere prance about in bathing suits, I'm gearing up for the autumnal tradition of baking harvest loaves.

This is something really special to me - like all childhood memories. Momola's pumpkin-chocolate loaf recipe marked the start of the harvest season. Every place we lived, we gifted loaves to friends and neighbors. Soft and moist with a heavenly smell, the bread harmonizes a densely caramelized pumpkin with a perfectly sharp chocolate. Perfect way to celebrate the fall, coziness and togetherness. It makes a great gift. And a toasted slice pairs so nicely with a warm cup of tea.

Left to Right: Illustration of chocolate, pumpkin, cinnamon. Photograph of baking pumpkin chocolate loaf. Illustration of Furoshiki folding of the harvest loaf. ©smartigraphicdesign

T his is a family tradition that has slowly earned several layers of ritual as we moved around as a military family. The way Momola tells it - she learned to roast a pumpkin when she moved to the USA. In New Mexico, she baked a loaf of pumpkin bread from a magazine recipe. By the time we moved as a family to Maryland, she was mixing in cocoa powder and chocolate. In Japan, the art of furoshiki wowed us and we would wrap each loaf up in pretty fabric folds of new kitchen towels.

I've always felt so proud about how it symbolically encapsulates gratitude and community. Gifting to others shows how we are actively grateful for the people who surround us. It also helps bond the community in an act of collective harvest. And at the very least, it creates an opening for generosity - even amongst the most prickliest of neighbors.

On my own, I've attempted to carry the tradition forward - with mixed results. In Buenos Aires, it was a fun and unexpected gift to make. But Paris was a bit of a disaster because corner bakeries were plentiful. In Copenhagen, I hit gold with Bianca Zapatki's marbled recipe. But it doesn't matter what I bake for the harvest loaf. In the end, the magic is sharing it with my neighbors and friends. It always brings me back to the warm fuzzy joy of my childhood again.

Left to Right: Photograph of loaves lined up. Illustration of harvest loaf gifting. Photograph of Furoshiki folded loaf. ©smartigraphicdesign

My finishing touch is to write a little note that explains the backstory of the Harvest Loaf. In the note I also share my gratitude and wish people well for the harvest season. I think that makes it a sweeter package. Little bit of a paper joy + zero-waste, edible gift. It's a tradition best kept for those close enough to receive the in-person gesture, so this year I plan on gifting them to the people who are helping me settle into Windhoek, Namibia. It'll be a meaningful thank you to celebrate the start of our new assignment here.

happy harvest,

smarti