# 141: Friendship Bread
Story behind the Passage
My next-door neighbor called me today. She said, she wanted to give me the dough for “friendship cake.” I had never heard about such a thing before but since she knows that I am very much into baking, she obviously figured I would be in for it. So, just a few hours later, she gave me a jar with dough and a sheet with instructions. You find the original sheet above in German but you find lots of links online giving you the English version. So, why am I insisting on the German one?
In spite of the fact that I love giving you real snapshots of my books and real documents (such as these baking instructions), there are some instructions in the German recipe that I am not seeing in the online recipes from the U.S. I am not going into some historical analysis now why that is. Obviously, since the entire experiment depends on some chemical reactions taking place in the course of the week (or 10 days in the English version), there are obviously reasons why these instructions make sense the way they are described in the German version.
As I am writing this now, I am running the risk of getting into some lecture about how recipes travel around the world. It reminds me of a term from cultural studies “Traveling Concepts” by Mieke Bal. It is quite fascinating actually, how something, some dish, you get to know in a foreign country can be found in your own culture as well. But very often, these dishes have a different name. Or the dishes have a different name but practically rely on the same recipe.
Pancakes is an example of this, I think. The word exists in German (the literal translation) but the “pancakes” look very different. The same applies to “rolls” in Britain. Their rolls would never passs as rolls in Germany but German rolls look more like U.S. sandwiches. And then there are dishes that are exactly the same across cultures but they have completely different names. An example of this is bread. Germans are quite picky about bread but what I simply mean is that bread in the U.S. and English-speaking countries can look like German cake. Well, enough confusion. Let me finally get to my thoughts about the recipe.
My Learnings
“Rühre ihn nie mit der Hand oder Metallbesteck um“ / „Never stir with your hands or with silverware.“ Is this not so funny? I mean, as I said above, I can very well understand that there probably is some chemical reason why, further down, it says that you should use plastic (well, they will have to change this, obviously, as plastic will increasingly be abandoned due to environmental reasons). But the actual material is not even that important to me. I am just thinking about how you can transfer this to life.
Think of how often you try to “stir” stuff in your life or at work but you are simply using the wrong utensils. Well, not entirely the wrong utensils because a spoon from the outside looks like any other spoon. But as soon as you start using it, you realize that the spoon is made of the wrong material and thus causing some reaction which you did not intend. The stupid thing is that, just like in baking, you might not immediately realize this. Sometimes, the consequences only become visible after you put the thing — whatever you are trying to bake — in the oven. And then you watch and wait and everything either does not get crisp or it falls apart.
Does that analogy sound familiar?
“ — rühre nicht um — “ / — “do not stir — “ This is kind of the superlative of the previous instruction. Not only do we sometimes use the wrong material for a given task. We simply stir because we want to push things and mix them but they are not meant to be stirred — not yet. As in the cake example, sometimes you simply have to be patient for a few days (cake) or a few years (life) before everything is ready to be blended together — to be helped to come together. Until then, you simply have to watch what happens. Even though that is a very hard thing, the instructions suggest that it makes sense and that — because these are instructions — you should follow them.
So, when looking at all this now, I really feel caught. In my life, I am constantly stirring when it is too early, I guess. And maybe I am even using the wrong utensils. But the problem is, who gives you the instuctions in life? Who writes the recipe? Is it the Amish (American version). Or the Franciscans (German version)? Who, at least, points you to the ‘right’ recipe? If I build on my example from today, my neighbors took on this role. And since this is a friendship cake, I guess, that is because we are friends. Being friends with someone obviously means that this person wishes you well and, this is also important, thought of you when looking for potential recipients of the dough and the respective instructions.
I guess, there is no universal answer to this question of who writes the recipe. We all have to answer it ourselves. But the starting point, I guess, is to think of people around us. Who would we give the recipe to? Who will we share the cake with? And there is another question that I am now including in my evening meditation: What is the wish that I want to be fulfilled?
What is yours?
Reflection Questions
1) Do you believe in lucky charms? If not, what would have to happen to convince you of the opposite?
2) What is an example from your life that shows that stirring at the wrong time ruins the cake?
3) If you were to start a friendship cake tomorrow, who would you give the dough and the instructions to?