The Way of the Future

I did it. I became a baker at Flatbread Company.

My mission, should I choose to accept it - fire maintenance and flatbread perfection, golden bottoms and golden brown crusts with a slight crispiness to the edges. A thorough evenness of bake through the crust, sauce, cheese and toppings.

I've wanted to become a baker for awhile and I smile now that I have. I smile for the accomplishment (I wrote down in March that I wanted to acquire this specific position), but more so because I can apply past skills that have been tucked away like childhood clothes in the recesses of my memory.
The more obvious skills I draw upon range from building a fire in my camping experiences to baking fresh hearty loaves of bread and knowing when to take them out of the oven by feel, smell and science. And the less obvious skills range from playing lacrosse goalie to drawing mazes and playing video games.

The way the baker maneuvers the peel from the assembly station into the oven, all the while servers, hostesses and guests walk by, fitting up to 10 flatbreads at a time in the large and tightly packed oven, requires a deftness of hand and concentration. The oven on a busy night will average between 800 and 1000 degrees fareinheit. The "pressure" to rotate each flatbread with the right timing to get an even bake while not losing track of the others, all while weilding and spinning the peel brings me back to playing lacrosse. I envision the motion of saving a ball aimed for the lower left corner of the goal, and I would swing the head of my goalie stick perched above my right shoulder across my body, lifting my left hand towards the sky and the right hand attacking the projection of the ball. There is a cause and effect too, to the timing of the flatbreads and spinning them not too early and not too late depending on the temperature of the oven to attain the perfect bake, or make the save.

Sliding the flatbreads around to the hotspots and rotating the ones in the back to the front is very videogame like. I have a feeling I'm going to be playing this level for a while until I master it. Not to mention I'm sweating from the heat of the oven and trying not to singe my eyelashes and forearms. The oven and open kitchen are in full view of the guests so they can watch their doughs being stretched, pizzas being assembled and then baked for 6-8 minutes.

I very much enjoy the marriage of science and intuition with baking. The fire maintenance is the most important aspect of the job, and if the airflow is good, and the log cabin is strong, it is easier to maintain and pile new wood on top in twos as the base burns to hot coals and ashes. If the fire is just right, the bottoms and tops will cook evenly and beautifully throughout the night. There is a sixth sense to knowing the oven, and that can be tapped into when you get into the rhythm of the baking. When you know the one and two spot can be taken out, the three can be turned and the four can be rotated for another 25 seconds before done. I've only baked a handful of times, but finding this rhythm is what allowed me to succeed in this first week. Just as in assembly that extra pepperoni can make the flatbread, so can those extra 15 seconds of leaving it in the oven.

I've written down some other possible futures that I'd like to manifest, and with the confidence in myself and the magic of this island, I believe I'll be able to achieve the goals I wish to. An alaskan fishing boat, a trip to europe, buying land on the mainland and building on it. This writing acts like planting seeds. If the conditions and the season is right, these ideas will germinate and when they form their first leaves, I will wake up and see and feel their tangible presence right in front of me. Another reason to be patient with Mother Time.

Waking up and spending a few hours in the garden or going for a walk/jog on the beach, sweating in front of the oven and eating natural foods from the health food/grocery store have given life a nice boost lately. Taking the time to cook my meals again at home and not just mix together fruit and granola is making me more aware and I can get myself going, but when things externally are clicking, it sure helps me figure things out. I've been in and out of myself the last six months, distracted by decisions, economy, and that which isn't very relevant to myself or the present. I've been in dazes and have misplaced my sense of self in the mix of solitude, broken down cars, helplessness, women, and society. I don't want to say I handled this time period wrongly, but I've learned and grew and find myself here, now. And as a baker at flatbread and par-time farmer, with enough money to pay for rent and good eataing for the time being on Maui, and a trip to Alaska planned in the next year, I've sorted through this clutter that is essential to life and hope to continue on in a positive path. I haven't learned many lessons as important as to trust in yourself. Trust who you are and who you will become.

And trust that the carne and veggie specials this week were mouth-watering delicious.

Carne Special:
Mediterranean marinated chicken, artichoke hearts and diced tomatoes base. Mozzarella and feta cheese melted above, with red onions and pepperoncini garnishing the top with flavor and color. Parmesan cheese and herbs sprinkled.

Veggie Special:
Rosemary cream sauce with spinach and potatoes. Mozzarella, gruyere and roasted garlic. Parmesan cheese and herbs sprinkled on top.

And at home I cooked grass-fed local beef in coconut oil with rosemary, spike, garlic and tobasco sauce. And added that to a stir-fry of onions, tomatoes, zucchini, okinawa spinach and Moloka'i purple sweet potatoes.

Going to get back into baking breads soon, and the more time I spend in the garden the better I feel. I found out recently that Aina is not literally translated to 'land,' but instead, 'that which feeds us.' I'm happy to work in a restaurant that harvests local organic ingredients, both vegetables and meats and uses kiave wood, a sustainable resource, to cook our food instead of gas or electric burners. The way of the future.

- Matthew