In Praise of Humble Objects

I’ll bet I’m not the only one who is attached to certain familiar objects that have no monetary value whatsoever. These are little things that I handle frequently, useful things. I have warm feelings toward them and take pleasure in using them.

One such object was an old silver plated spoon I called the stirring spoon. I wrote about it in a post called “Stirring Spoon” (what else?) on May 1, 2011. Just taking that old spoon out of the drawer was like running into a friend at the grocery store. That spoon and I were pals. The stirring spoon disappeared a couple of years ago, but I still think about it and miss it.

Not all of my favorite objects are irreplaceable, though. Another of my object pals is my kneading cloth. It is a piece of heavy, unbleached canvas, 18” x 22”. One side of it – the kneading side – is imbued with flour. I knead the bread dough on this cloth twice, once after mixing the ingredients and again after the dough has risen in an oiled bowl. In the photo you can see rings of oil deposited when I turn the dough out for the second kneading and loaf shaping.

I made it myself from a length of canvas I bought at Sarah’s, our local fabric store. The fabric was 45 inches wide, so I cut it in half. When my current kneading cloth wears out, the other half of the canvas is waiting to take over.

I started using it without doing anything the secure the edges from raveling, but recently I had to run a row of zig-zag stitches around the fraying edges. With continued use the cotton has grown softer and more pliable. Just the touch of it gives me peace.

The great advantage of using my kneading cloth is that kneading isn’t messy. I can knead without touching the dough simply by lifting each corner of the cloth in turn, using the cloth to fold the dough over and over again. After the loaves are formed and in their pans, I use the cloth to cover them for the final rise.

Kneading cloths should be washed as seldom as possible. I wash mine only after making cinnamon rolls when inevitably some brown sugar and cinnamon soil the cloth. First I soak it in cold water to dissolve the imbued flour. Then I toss it in the laundry with a load of towels. After it dries I rub flour into the weave of the kneading side. I always fold it in thirds so that the center doesn’t wear out and I store it in a plastic bag in the utensil drawer.

I’ve had three kneading cloths and worn out two of them. Those were my favorites in a way because the canvas was printed with the words, “Property of the Federal Reserve Bank,” followed by a warning against using it for any purpose other than as a money bag. They’re gone now. It’s too late to toss me in prison.

Copyright 2013 by Shirley Domer