Catch her in the rye-bread

Feels like I’m fiddling while Rome is burning down
Should I put my fiddle down, take a rifle from the ground
God give me strength to pray that You will set things right
’cause I’m paralyzed, I’m paralyzed

Holden Caulfield is quite possibly the character I hated most in all 4 years of English literature required reading—no small feat since he’s got stiff competition from every character in all of The Great Gatsby.  I failed to understand why Catcher in the Rye was praised as such a great American novel.  I suspected it was only because of its ties to John Lennon that most people have ever heard of it and informed my teacher of this theory; she didn’t disagree… or at least wasn’t shocked by my disdain.

I still stand by my lack of love for the book.  I just can’t stand Holden—I get it: he’s whiny, he’s unable to fit in because he has become grossly aware of how much people suck in the world, and he’s the quintessential teenager realizing that most of what he’s being fed by society is crap.  14 year old sophomore me could not stand him—he was a cynical asshole who stands for existential angst.  Aren’t teenagers who are feeling this same way supposed to identify and feel like FINALLY here was someone who gets it?  Well sorry to disappoint but I guess I was even more Holden than Holden because I hated him and his phony complaints.

Okay the world pretty much sucks.  People suck.  So do something about it.  Holden was happy to dick around and let the world win; all that disgust and rage that lead to…Apathy.  I hated it; hate it still, because it’s basically the very thing anyone who has experienced depression has to constantly fight against.  This complete lack of caring that brings you to the point of wondering why you bother living at all.  If I’m going to identify with a character in a book, or make him the hero, why in the world would I want to fixate on someone who embraced the worst parts of my personality?  I want to find someone to inspire me to get out of it, to fix it, someone who has some sort of answer or new perspective to provide to me.

So you can imagine my horror in realizing that of late I’ve been becoming this very character I can’t stand.  There’s been so much to focus on that’s negative—I’ve been dwelling, isolating myself, unable to find joy in anything that use to make me happy.  I started to feel like Stan Marsh and seeing shit all around me.  Rape.  Rape culture.  Street Harassment.  White Middle-Aged Male Privilege.  Homophobia.  Eating disorders.  Body image disorders.  Bipolar disorder.  Abusive, manipulative people in my life.  Phony friends.  Doublespeak.  Corporate confusion.  I felt like I didn’t know who I could trust or who could handle the amount of rage and disgust that I was processing.  All these things in my life that I was experiencing or experiencing through loved ones.

I was driving to yoga the other day and saw this female mannequin on the street.  It is set up to hold a sign for tax auditing services.  It barely registered on my radar most days until one day, some jerk thought it was funny to lift up the shirt, cover the face and present mannequin breasts to the world.  I damn near rear ended the car in front of me.  I mean I know, it’s just a doll, but it was everything that act stood for.  Treating a woman’s body like a joke and covering her face so that her identity is rendered completely unimportant.  I could think of all the comments I’d hear if I complained about it—I’m over reacting, boys will be boys (assuming a man did it), it’s just a joke….  I was getting angry just imagining how my feelings about it would be dismissed.  I turned the car around.  I wasn’t going to whine or complain, I was just going to pull over and fix the thing myself and then let it go and get to yoga, even if I was a minute or two late.

By the time I’d pulled up a man was standing in front of it fixing the face—the shirt had already been pulled down.  I told him I was pulling over to fix it but he beat me to it and thanked him.

“It just, seemed, wrong.  It felt… violating.  I guess that’s stupid.” – His words not mine.

All the anger just faded away.  I was so happy.  Not only was I fighting against my own Holden, but in doing so, I found a moment and a stranger who I could connect with for only a moment, in the desire to influence our world around us in a positive way.

I was late for yoga.  Totally worth it.

Buttermilk Marbled Rye Bread (with Dill butter)

 makes 1 loaf

 Light Rye Dough

• ¾ cups buttermilk
• 2 ¼ tsp canola oil or shortening
• ¾ cup Bread Flour
• 1 ½ cups light rye flour
• 1 Tbsp molasses
• ¾ tsp salt
• 1 tsp caraway seeds
• 1 tsp yeast

Dark Rye Dough

• ¾ cups buttermilk
• 2 ¼ tsp canola oil or shortening
• ¾ cup Bread Flour
• 1 ½ cups light rye flour
• 1 Tbsp molasses
• ¾ tsp salt
• 1 tsp caraway seeds
• 1 tsp yeast
• ½ Tbsp natural cocoa powder

For the light rye dough, combine yeast, flours, salt, and caraway seeds: mix well. Mix in the shortening, molasses and buttermilk. Blend at low speed; beat 3 minutes at medium speed. Continue to beat until the dough comes together into a ball. Knead on lightly floured surface 4 to 6 minutes until smooth and elastic—the dough should be tacky but not sticky. Place dough in lightly oiled bowl and turn to grease top. Cover; let rise in a warm spot until doubled in volume.

Repeat this process for the dark rye dough with the only chance being the addition of the cocoa powder to the flour mixture in the beginning.

Once both doughs have risen (should take roughly 1 to 1 ½ hours) prepare a lightly floured surface and roll out each to a rectangle—approximately 14 by 7 inches.   Place the light dough on top of the dark and roll up tightly from the long edge.  Pinch the edges to seal and place the dough into your bread pan if you want a traditional loaf or leave loose on a baking sheet if you don’t mind a more free-form loaf of bread.  Loosely cover with plastic wrap or cloth.

Preheat the oven to 375F and let the bread rise for another hour or so until it double in size.  Once risen, bake for 45 minutes, or until the loaf sounds hollow when tapped and let it cool fully before slicing.

Serve with dill butter for ultimate comfort noms.